


Ace of Hearts

by Kuripuri



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Arguing, Asexual Character, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Friendships, Drama, Drama & Romance, Drugs, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Misogyny, Politics, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Some Swearing, Swearing, Tension, brotherhood neutral/negative, chems, chems in mention, institute negative, minutemen positive, prestonpositive, railroad neutral, sexual content in mention (nothing graphic), vomit in mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2018-08-31 07:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 68,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8569150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuripuri/pseuds/Kuripuri
Summary: The Sole Survivor of vault 111, the Good General of the Minutemen, is a woman from the past with a vision for the future. With the Institute gone and the Minutemen growing every day, the Commonwealth is relatively safe and peaceful. The only real fear left for the General is what her relationship with the ghoul Mayor of Goodneighbor will develop into once he finds out about her feelings, and her asexuality. And can he handle it?That is, until the Brotherhood of Steel, who have outstayed their welcome, threaten the peaceful balance and the General has to decide how to proceed to protect her people and her friends, without risking a devastating war that could very well end the world a second time. Was meant to be a oneshot about AceSole and Hancock figuring out where they stand with eachother, but I want to do more. More tags are added as new chapters are posted.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> if you see any typos or if something doesn't make sense please let me know. constructive criticism is appriciated.

Hancock wouldn't say he was particularly interested in the pre-war world customs but he had collected a variety of tidbits and trivia over years of socialising with other ghouls. He knew people sent out cards with seasonal greetings during holidays, that people were judged on how wellkept their garden was and that women were expected to walk around in highheels on a daily basis. Something he tried himself and almost broke his ankles doing.  
  
But he didn't know why lying on the hood of a car outside in the cold was so important to the General or why she was smiling as widely as she did when she gazed at the stars. He didn't know why she made him lie next to her either or why they couldn't go to the attic to stargaze there. The roof was gone but at least there were walls that kept the breeze off of him.  
  
She had giggled and, while that certainly was cute, said that it's what the kids used to do which had explained absolutely fuckall to him. What kid would do this for fun? And they weren't kids so why did they have to do it? He wasn't sure if she genuinely wanted to do this or if she was pranking him and he had asked his share of questions but in the end she had simply looked at him gently, asked him please and he was onboard.  
  
The General herself was more relaxed than she'd been in a while despite lying outside propped up like a prize target in the middle of the open wasteland. The institute had been destroyed a few months prior and the Commonwealth had adjusted, the Minutemen had grown exponentially and the settlements were blossoming, giving her a lot of work to do and little time to grieve.  
  
It was hard to move on from what she had done to her son but it had earned her respect and fear from the Commonwealth and in the end, Father hadn't really been her son. Her offspring, without a doubt, but she had been denied the gift and responsability to care for him, to shape him into a good man and as a result it was difficult to really process what had happened.  
  
And then there was the synth child he had created. Little Shaun was currently at the Castle with Sturges and Preston, getting 'proper' wasteland education that the General still felt she was unable to understand and as such teach. He was a smart little boy, a fast learner, and while it was still hard to wrap her head around that he was her _synth_ child she missed him dearly.  
  
He had been what kept her going for so long and she wanted to finally be the mother she was supposed to be but there was still work to do. She still had a responsability to the Commonwealth and it would've been impossible to endure if it wasn't for Hancock.  
  
As if by a cue he looked at her, eyebrows knitted together and his beautiful black eyes looking for hers but before he could ask her for the third time what they were doing, she scooted closer on the hood and pressed her head against his shoulder. He responded by shifting to move his arm under her, supporting her head properly.  
  
Hancock still thought it was too weird not to question but he took the hint and remained silent. If she liked it, she liked it and if she liked it with him nearby it was better. Who was he to deny her a break? It would've been better with some jet, of course, but he knew it was pointless to ask. She never indulged in it if she wasn't absolutely safe and they were already sitting ducks on the hood. Instead he pulled her a little closer, revelling in the comfort she gave until she winced.  
  
"Hows your arm?" he murmured, sitting up a little more to take a look. The General didn't appriciate the change and tried to push him back down with her head but to no avail.  
  
"It's sore, but getting better. I'll live."  
  
Hancock let out a huff of air in an attempt to laugh.  
  
"You'd be peachy if ya hadn't pushed me so damn hard."  
  
"That guy was gunning for you with a baseball bat. You weren't even paying attention! Had to do something."  
  
"You're lucky your arm didn't break."  
  
He considered it a dumb move on her part. He had taken harder hits in the past and could absolutely pull off a sexy bruise, and yet now she was in pain just to save him a little ache. The General felt indifferent about it, however. She knew Hancock was a strong person, physically and mentally, but her heart bled easily and if she could do anything to save anyone from anything she'd be right there in a heartbeat.  
  
It didn't help that he was, except for Shaun, her greatest weakness and she reckoned he knew that though he refused to admit it fully. She relaxed again on the hood, taking a deep breath before her gaze returned to the sky. It was never like that before. It was a well-known fact that there were billions upon billions of stars out there but there had been too much light on earth blocking them out.  
  
She had told him this a few times and he certainly saw the appeal; the stars were amazing and contemplating the universe was interesting but he'd rather lounge on a couch with some whiskey and a General in his arms. Not freezing his ass off on a bulky scrap of metal in the middle of nowhere but alas, there they were.  
  
Though as she resumed lying down he saw an opportunity to shift his gaze to her instead, propping himself up to rest his head in his hand, facing the General. Her eyes flicked over to him, eyebrows rising softly.  
  
"What?" she asked him.  
  
"What?" he replied, smirking.  
  
She smacked him with her sore arm, wincing slightly at the impact.  
  
"What are you looking at?"  
  
"You're lookin' at the sky, I'm lookin' at the sunshine."  
  
The General couldn't help but to burst out in a wide smile, feeling heat flood her face. He was so corny sometimes, so unbelivably sweet and romantic, it was hard to imagine that he was the same Mayor who stabbed Finn that day they met. Initially it had been terrifying, not knowing if he was coming towards her to greet her the same way but he had introduced himself, welcomed her to his home.  
  
She reached with her sore hand to touch the ragged skin on his face, stroking his cheekbone with her thumb. No matter what they did, no matter how she tried to keep a professional distance, she always ended up closer than she wanted to be.  
  
Tonight felt different and he took a chance leaning in closer, a chance he had only dared once before and they had been so close his heart had almost stopped. Suddenly it wasn't so cold outside anymore and the hand she kept on his face didn't push, it pulled and she reached in herself.  
  
Hancock had been in this position many times but it hadn't ever quite felt this intimate. The world around them got quiet as they focused on eachother; Hancock looking intently in her eyes, searching for doubts and signs for him to pull away and the General couldn't take her eyes off of his lips. They were thin and scarred like the rest of his body but the thought of what they'd feel like against her own was intoxicating and it was difficult to focus on anything else.  
  
Much to both of their surprise she was the one who closed the distance, closing her eyes and pressing her lips gently against his. Hancock was stunned for a moment until he kissed back, shifting his body by reaching his arm under her again, pressing his palm against her shoulder and pulling her body closer to his. His other hand moved to her hips, pushing her further against him.  
  
The General gasped against his mouth before growing more aggressive, clutching his coat as if she held on for her life. It felt like a drug to her and it confirmed what she had feared, why she withdrew the last time and why she tried to keep a distance without alienating him.  It was an unmistakeable thrill in her chest when his hand roamed up and down her hips and back and yet when his hand reached to travel under her shirt she abruptly stopped and pushed him away.  
  
She quickly slid off the hood and stood on shaky legs with her back turned to him, fighting the tears that wanted to come. It was stupid, she was stupid. There was no way she could do that to him and yet she kept luring him in, burning him like a moth to a flame. Hancock climbed on the hood after her, reaching for her with his marred hand but when he caught a view of his skin he held back.  
  
She was pre-war, after all. Who could blame her? But he wasn't a man without honor and he still had to ask, still had to make sure she was okay.  
  
"Sunshine? What did I do? Did I hurt you?"  
  
The first tear fell and she felt a twinge in her heart when she heard the sadness in his voice. Such a beautiful moment ruined, because of her. That's what she did to men. That's why she should've kept her damn distance. With Nate she had pushed through it, ignore the discomfort and pain and he had tried to understand, he truly did, but she barely understood it herself.  
  
"No. It's not you, I swear. I'm sorry, it's my fault."  
  
It was, it had to be. Nate had tried to understand but ultimately it just didn't make sense to him and sometimes he'd get tired of her excuses, he'd grow frustrated and yell. The things Hancock would want to do, the things he enjoyed... it was beyond her. She had come to terms with it and after Nate had given her Shaun she didn't want to endure it anymore.  
  
And how could she expect Hancock to be with her if she couldn't even have sex? If she didn't want it? It wasn't fair. She loved him and she did want him but while kissing felt like heaven and to touch him was incredible, it was as far as she wanted. She should've kept her distance.  
  
"I don't understand. You didn't do anything wrong."  
  
The General laughed suddenly and turned around, tears already drying on her skin from the breeze.  
  
"I... It's hard to explain."  
  
Hancock crawled across the hood and sat down, planting his feet securely in the ground. Once again he reached with his hands for her, offering them to her for comfort though he couldn't deny that he was testing to see if it wasn't because of his condition. Ghouls made plenty of people uncomfortable and while the General accepted anyone as long as they did good, it wasn't too hard to imagine she'd still shy away from him.  
  
And yet she didn't hesitate to twine their hands together, even bringing one of them up to her lips to kiss.  
  
"Hey..." he spoke softly. Maybe he had overwhelmed her. Maybe he had pushed her to do something she didn't want to and the thought made his gut churn. "You can tell me anything. If I did somehin'-..."  
  
"No. No, Hancock, it's not you, honestly."  
  
"Then what is it?"  
  
He freed one of his hands and brought it to her face, tilting her head so that he could look her in the eyes.  
  
"We keep ending up in this situation," he continued, "and something tells me it ain't just me, sunshine. I can feel it when ya look at me and it ain't without affection, you know there's something between us."  
  
It felt like a risk to say it but it was also true. The General had many companions at her disposal but she always chose him to spend time with. He'd had his fair share of suitors and admirers as well and none of them had ever looked at him the way she did.  
  
He brought their foreheads together, pulling her closer and he was terrified she'd resist and pull away again.  
  
"It's just... I know what you're expecting... what you want and I don't think I can..."  
  
She fell silent and took a step back but Hancock kept her hands tightly in his. She was terrified and he could feel her shake slightly, tears were re-emerging from her eyes and she tried to turn away.  
  
His thumbs stroked her skin and he squeezed her hands for comfort, for support, though it didn't seem to quite help. Her eyes were fixed on his coat, she was refusing eye-contact and he couldn't possibly imagine what she was about to say but a million horrors went through his head. She was dying, she wasn't really interested in him, there was someone else, it was a misunderstanding or he repulsed her. Each thought was unbearable and more kept coming until her voice broke his focus.  
  
"I don't... want to have sex. I've never-... I've never wanted to have sex and I don't know what's wrong with me but I know-, I know what a guy like you wants in a relationship and _god_ ," she sighed, "I love you and I want to be with you but I won't be enough and it's not fair to you."  
  
She began to visibly shake and he tried to reel her in to hold her, to wrap her up in a warm embrace and tell her everything was gonna be okay and there was no need to be sad but she evaded his grasp and withdrew her hands.  
  
"I can't do that to you."  
  
She took another step back, and another and the panic was radiating from her. What had she done? Why couldn't she keep her damn distance, how could she expect him to keep traveling with her now, much less remain her friend?  
  
"Can we forget this? Can we forget this happened? Please?"  
  
Everything was ruined because she had no self-control and couldn't keep her damn mouth off of him. How selfish could she be? There was a reason she tried to stay away and he was right; there was something between them but because of her it would never be anything more than awkward second-guessing and dissapointments. They could've avoided a whole lot of confusion if they had just stayed friends but broken vases still have cracks after you glue them back together.  
  
The General kept taking steps back away from him, afraid that if he wasn't in her field of view she'd never see him again but she was anxious to get away from the situation. Over and over she kept mulling her mistake, praying for a perfect solution to dawn on her when suddenly Hancocks bony fingers gripped her arms. He had no idea what the hell was happening or why she was so distraught but this couldn't go on, not on his watch.  
  
Goodneighbor didn't have the best reputation and there were good reasons for that but he made damn sure everyone in his town knew how to respect boundries. No meant no, no matter gender, age or situation and if you didn't follow that golden rule you'd quickly find yourself with a shiv between your ribs.  
  
Of course, he couldn't help but to feel a little hurt. Would things be different if he hadn't turned himself into a ghoul? Would she still hesitate to tell him what she felt? But it didn't matter and she had to understand.  
  
"Sunshine, baby..."  
  
He shook her gently, easing the pressure of his hands on her arms and he tilted his head towards her, trying to catch her eyes. She hadn't begun crying again and he figured that was at least something.  
  
"Fuck, Hancock. I just wanted to look at the damn stars with you."  
  
He scoffed and pulled her into his arms which she didn't resist to. Instead her arms went around his torso to reciprocate and the confusion got worse. Did she want to touch him or not? Was there something he was missing?  
  
"Listen," he said, briefly letting himself smell her hair. "I... We gotta talk this out 'cause I ain't sure what you're telling me. Is it okay if we go inside?"  
  
The General nodded against his shoulder but they remained still for another moment before they let go. He could feel how tense she was, he even saw it her eyes and he wasn't sure if he should've felt pride or pain over causing her such intense emotions. On one hand, his devilish charm had certainly caught another one but on the other hand, she was hurting and it was his fault.  
  
In either case, once he got her inside and made her sit down on the good end of the couch he poured them both a drink and sat down by her feet. She kept looking at the damn ground anyway and he had read in one of those old burnt books that symbolically putting yourself in a submissive position made a friendlier impression.  
  
It appeared to have the desired effect when she smiled and cradled his face in her hands.  
  
"I ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?" she asked him.  
  
"Once or twice."  
  
He smiled and she saw the warmth in his eyes, felt it radiate from his hands on her shin, going up and down gently and things didn't seem as awful anymore. Nate had given her space when she was fed up with his advances but eventually he always got her to give in. _This is what people in love do_ , he'd say. _Do you really love me if you can't even let me touch you?_  
  
But Hancock was different and not just because he listened. He never forced anyone to do anything, never pushed his agenda or personal beliefs down anyone's throat. He respected differences even when he didn't agree with them because he knew what the other side was like and he didn't want to be it. But this was different.  
  
"So, why don't we start from the top?"  
  
She relaxed and slumped backwards with a sigh. He deserved the whole truth but it didn't make a lot of sense and she wasn't sure if he'd believe her. Nate never believed her, not really and he wasn't a bad man, she understood it got frustrating for him sometimes. When he'd slam a door, when he refused to touch her for days after she said no, when he'd come home looking rugged and sad, she had understood.  
  
But it had also felt wrong. It still felt wrong when a door got shut too loudly or when she wanted to say no but didn't want to dissapoint, when people continued asking after she had mustered the courage to decline the first time. It made her feel rotten to her core and it made her skin crawl and heart beat faster and she didn't want to feel that way with Hancock.  
  
"I don't know what's wrong with me," she started, "but I just don't... like it. I never did."  
  
Hancock kept a steady pace with his hand on her shin, he hoped it felt comforting to her and she didn't seem to object. The General did feel a little better when he did it. She had already blurted out the gist of it and he hadn't rejected her yet.  
  
"Sex?" he asked her, completing her sentence. She nodded.  
  
"It's just... I don't know how to explain it. When I was married to Nate, I just did what I was supposed to do. I never understood why he was so keen on it, why people sought it out so much. It was always just uncomfortable."  
  
She looked hesitant to continue but Hancock remained silent to let her speak.  
  
"I just, um, I wanted a baby."  
  
Tears formed at her eyes again and through a smile she let them fall. All she had ever wanted was her little boy, to have a family. To love Nate and be loved back, to start working when Shaun got old enough and make a good living, care for her boys with the best she could but then the war had happened and crushed her dreams.  
  
Though as she sat with Hancock by her feet, as he patiently waited for her to express herself, she couldn't deny that it had also given her a new dream. She could still have it; a family to love and be loved by but she had to get this right first. The General wiped the tears off of her cheeks.  
  
"I love you. I think, since the first time I saw you. Since the first time I heard what Goodneighbor was about and who made it happen."  
  
Hancock was praising the stars in the sky he no longer had skin he could blush with or he'd be lighting the room with his glow. In truth, he wasn't always happy with how Goodneighbor turned out. It was a haven for people who had nowhere else to go and a place to be yourself without judgement but he wasn't a natural leader. He couldn't plan ahead like she could, consider all the options and make the right choice. He had made a lot of mistakes he couldn't take back.  
  
And to hear her praise him for giving junkies a place to sleep and deviants a place to be normal made his heart beat harder than it ever had before. The pre-war world must've been something awful if something as simple as that impressed a woman like her.  
  
"To get this far from that day when the bombs dropped... would have been completely impossible without you."  
  
She laughed suddenly, covering her face with her hands.  
  
"This is so awkward."  
  
"I think you're giving me a little too much credit there, but I'm glad not even the good General can resist my charming personality."  
  
He grinned when she leaned forwards to smack his shoulder, wincing again at the impact. Her arm was going to take it's sweet time healing if she kept doing that but Hancock patted himself on the back for her reaction. An easy yet subtle way to ease the tension was to crack a joke, though it could just as often derail a situation. He had even picked up a few cues from Deacon but that guy would joke and pull one-liners into his grave.  
  
"So what's the problem?" he asked her, because he did genuinely not understand. He liked her, she liked him, was that not how it worked? Sure, she said she didn't like sex and that wasn't exactly common but it wasn't unheard of either. He'd never force her to do anything she didn't want to do and he was wondering what part of his character might make her secondguess that.  
  
"Because!" she exclaimed with a sigh, throwing her hands in the air as if the answer was around them. "I don't think I'll ever be comfortable having sex again and I know what kind of guy you are. I'd just make you miss out on things you enjoy."  
  
"What kind of guy I am?"  
  
He knew, of course, that she didn't judge him or wanted to offend him but he had heard that phrase a few too many times to stop the discomfort from welling up in his chest. What kind of guy was he? Didn't she just compliment his town? His pride and joy? He knitted his eyebrows together, feeling the wrinkles on his forehead though there were too many scars for it to make a difference.  
  
"Well you have a reputation."  
  
The General looked embarrassed but he had to confess; he did. He wasn't a stranger to carnal pleasures and he was starting to see where she was coming from. Most folks in general had a healthy sexual appetite, regardless if they were in a relationship or not, and Hancock had been... hungry, to say the least. But he had also never wanted more than a casual hookup until he met her.  
  
 "And... I know how important sex can be and I don't want to make you suffer because of me."  
  
Her eyes went to her lap where she folded her hands, shutting herself inside. She still felt stupid, there was nothing stopping them from being happy together other than herself. Why didn't she like sex? It made no sense, everyone else seemed to enjoy it immensely but it just wasn't in her.  
  
Maybe there was something wrong with her, something that could be fixed but there wasn't time nor a place to deal with it. And hell, she had Shaun. What more could she really ask for? If Hancock coud forgive her and still remain as her friend she'd consider the night to be a roaring success.  
  
"Alright." Hancock said. "I gotta get this straight; you love me. Somehow you fell inlove with me and I, of course, love you too. How could I not?"  
  
Hacock smiled and she tried not to let it get to her, she didn't want to get her hopes up, but his smile was so sweet she couldn't stop the flurry of emotions shiver through her limbs.  
  
"We've been through a lot together; taking down the institute, building up the Minutemen and as soon as you're ready to chase those tincan buckets outta the 'wealth I'll be right there with you too. We trust eachother, right? We belong together."  
  
The last part was said cautiously but his eyes remained locked on hers and they didn't falter when hers found his. He hoped he wasn't going way out of line, scaring her away but he knew it in the back of his head that it was the right thing to say. It was the truth. They were two sides of a coin, two peas in a pod, however you'd like to call it.  
  
"If ya ain't ever interested in gettin' physical that's okay with me, but ya did kiss me. What'd that mean?"  
  
What did it mean? It was as confusing to her as it was to him and she had spent a lot of time thinking about it. Thinking about him. She'd imagine scenarios where they'd start touching, holding hands and tracing scars followed by soft kisses in the dark.  
  
When it was gentle it made her heart flutter and when it was passionate it made her heart race but when she toyed with the idea of him reaching between her thighs there was nothing. No excitment, no heat pooling between her legs, nothing that made her want it.  
  
If she pressed on and had him reach under her underwear there was still nothing. If anything it made her reluctant to continue, instead wishing they'd just stop completely and keep a distance.  
  
How was she supposed to explain that? How was she supposed to make him understand that she wanted to touch him, to hold him and to kiss him but she didn't want to fuck him? And at the same time convince him how much she loved him and not just as a friend.  
  
"I like kissing you, I guess. Well..." she scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Not that I've done a lot of it but it makes me feel really nice. I think I'd like touching you too, hugging? Cuddling? I'm sorry, it's just complicated."  
  
Hancock only slowly nodded along, thinking it over in his head. He had at first suspected that her sexual disinterest in him was because of his condition and he wouldn't have blamed her. But a general lack of want for sex? And she still wanted to be close to him, be intimate in another shape.  
  
It made him feel rather funny inside, a feeling he couldn't quite place. So she wanted to be with him, because of him? She loved him because of his person? Not his reputation or his power, or his 'skills'? She genuinely loved John Hancock? Didn't think he'd live to see the day.  
  
His body felt as if it was ten times lighter and he gripped onto her leg tightly for support. Once again his ghoulification came to his rescue as he felt his eyes sting just a little bit. Had his tearducts not melted together he could've become a pathetic crying mess at her feet.  
  
Ever since they met she had had a knack for turning him upside down. Making him laugh at jokes that weren't that funny, collecting junk and scrap incase it could serve a higher purpose, even sitting on the hood of a car in the middle of the night to look at the stars.  
  
"So... what? Are we doing this then?" He gave her a toothy grin. Was this finally happening? Felt like they spent ages dancing around eachother, carefully pulling the strings on eachother and hiding their own reactions.  
  
"Doing wha-..., Hancock I can't ask you to give that up, not for me."  
  
"I'm not giving anything up, it's not that important."  
  
"Hancock, please, I-"  
  
"Sunshine, I just want to be with you."  
  
"It wouldn't feel right."  
  
He had subconsciously risen to his knees, leaning across her lap to get closer, to see her eyes more clearly in the soft glow from the lantern. It didn't feel right for him either, it was too good and he was too happy and things got bad quick when it hadn't been bad in a while but he wanted to savor the moment and indulge himself.  
  
There was still too much distance between them and he crawled onto the couch like a cat, kneeling next to her with his face so close to hers that he could easily count the freckles on her nose. He'd give her a kiss for each one he could spot if she would let him.  
  
"Baby, it _is_ right. _We're_ right. If you don't ever want to have sex we ain't ever gotta but please don't turn me away because you think you're denying me anythin'."  
  
Their eyes met again, deep black to rich green and there was something raw between them, something pure and beautiful. Something so absolutely wonderful she didn't think there was a word for it. Was he seriously okay with it? Nate had tried to understand and said that he'd never hurt her but he still had, in a way he probably didn't expect.  
  
And Hancock would just let that part of his life go? Let his sexual vigor grow stagnat? It seemed too much to ask, still, even when she already knew what she wanted. What they both wanted and what they both were going to do.  
  
Who would pass this up? It almost felt like the universe had shaped the world so that they could meet, broken it in places so that they, together, could fill the void. She swallowed hard and focused on the almost invisible outlines of his irises, mapping out the constellations in his eyes.  
  
"I can't do this to you." she whispered.  
  
It felt too good to be true but even she didn't believe it anymore. They were already an item, to officially tell eachother was just a minor technicality. He already belonged to her and she was already his.  
  
"You're not doing anything to me."  
  
His voice was hushed as well and his bony fingers trailed down the side of her cheek until she leaned into his palm, sighing almost inaudibly with contentment.  
  
"I don't want to hurt you." she continued but now she was only going through the motions, too stuck in her ways to really accept the change and he knew it too.  
  
"You'll only hurt me if you don't let me kiss you right now."  
  
The General let out a snort before she bumped her forehead against his, smiling as she gently pressed her lips against his. It was soft and sweet, his lips were heavily textured like the rest of him compared to her soft flesh but it felt so much like home to be kissing it reverberated through her entire body.  
  
Hancock relaxed and tilted his head to deepen the kiss, revelling in the contact she allowed him. This was a conversation far from over and he wasn't a fool enough to think it would be smooth sail from here on but for now he would savor the moment and the smile that was pressed against his mouth.  
  
It seemed silly to her to be this enamored by his gentle touches on her cheek and how softly he held himself against her, after all they'd been through, but what had she been fighting for if not for this? Nates invasion of her privacy still weighed heavily in her bones and she was expecting the day Hancock would reach that point, but perhaps the bliss now was worth the pain later.  
  
Though when Hancock placed a kiss on her nose and reclined slightly, finding her hand with his, she thought for a splitsecond that he had changed his mind. That suddenly the terms seemed too much and he wanted another chance to consider it but he surprised her, and yet not really, by asking her what Nate never bothered to find out.  
  
"Will you tell me when it's too much? Tell me what you don't like?"  
  
It almost caught her off-guard but of course he would want to know. When had Hancock ever not cared about respecting boundries? When had he ever not cared about making people feel welcomed and comfortable? It made her heart beat even more for him, she felt it surge through her mind and her very being.  
  
The General nodded softly, her smile growing wider and she was suddenly overcome with exhaustion. They had spent the day clearing out a camp filled with raiders and the stargazing was supposed to be their winding down after a long day. Instead they'd gotten on an emotional rollercoaster that luckily had a happy ending but still drained a lot of energy.  
  
"Could we sleep together tonight?" she asked him. As soon as the words had left her mouth she felt the familiar flare of panic in her stomach, worrying that perhaps it was too bold or too open to misinterpretation.  
  
"Not buying me dinner first?" he joked and the tension broke before it really took hold. She attempted to smack his shoulder again but he caught her by the wrist this time, firmly holding her arm still and sneaking another kiss before she could argue.  
  
In truth, the General had spent most mornings wondering if he'd be angry if he woke up next to her. She'd toyed with the idea of blaming it on uneven ground or freezing nights but she also knew better than to put him in a position he didn't ask to be in so she had kept her distance.  
  
Hancock in return had fantasized about more savory situations and had the circumstances been different he'd be planning the next months nightly activities. Romance was not a subject he was particularly familiar with, there hadn't been a place for love in his life until now and the people he'd slept with had either been friends or strangers. Close to his heart but never in it.  
  
It felt odd to be restricted, but he also wanted what she did; to kiss her and hold her, to feel her fingers grace his scarred skin with affection and not morbid curiosity. It was almost terrifying but exciting all the same when they placed their sleeping bags next to eachother with little space betwen them; the General wondering how long it would take before the honeymoon phase was over and Nate would become a ghost in Hancocks eyes and Hancock wondering how many nights filled with sweet whispers and gentle touches he could savor before she grew tired of him.  
  
Though neither of them thought it mattered. They both had scars under their belt, battles lost and wars won and together they had accomplished impossible feats and in the end, if it didn't last, it would be one hell of a good memory.  
  
The house that sheltered them was broken and weary, the ground was hard and the air was cold but it felt like heaven when she placed her head on his shoulder, their fingers intertwined and legs tangled together. Neither one of them knew what tomorrow would bring but as always they would face it together, they would endure the battles together and each night they would nestle against eachother and forget that there was a world outside their home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> internally hopes you can understand who's talking based on the writing style so i didnt majorly fuck up by not putting "X said" after everything. i love calling them my boys and also i may be using sunshine a lot more than hancock does ingame but i love it so much and for some reason i havent named the general so i do what i can with what i got. i know hancock isnt overly emotional and its probably ooc but fuck it, it's fiction y'know. fluff is coming
> 
> the part where the General comes home to the Castle is heavily inspired by;   
> http://handmadeprincess.tumblr.com/post/142319945808/i-know-half-of-the-fandom-is-like-what-baby-but  
> i think about that post a lot and it's so nice and pure and i love it. it fuels my love for hancock and shaun 1000%

Three weeks after the emotional explosion, Hancock and the General had returned to the Castle to oversee the new batch of recruits. As time passed and the looming threat of the Institute became weaker and weaker, people began to support the Minutemen more openly and lovingly and with a lot less cynicism than after the tragedy at Quincy. Of course, few people remained skeptical, wary that another betrayal was inevitable but many young men and women arrived at the castledoors, ready to sign up to fight the good fight.  
  
The General would've been thrilled and excited to welcome them all immediately but unfortunately, with fear of gunner or raider infiltration, there had to be background checks and trial periods before they could be fully welcomed into any rank. Which meant that each person who showed up at their doorstep had to be interviewed and evaluated, and the General herself had to give the final approval before they were accepted as official Minutemen.  
  
New recruits spent the first few weeks getting basic first aid and combat training until they were presented with the choice to remain at the castle for settlement-unrelated missions, enlist as a guard at a settlement or join one of the three routes that patrolled the Commonwealth. Training thereafter was adapted to their individual needs.  
  
A person with good first aid comprehension didn't need to spend time practicing CPR when they could be improving their aim. In return, a guard-to-be didn't need to study the map of the Commonwealth and a patrolman had little use of powerarmor and as such had no reason to train with it.  
  
The Minutemen had become her pride and joy and every day she woke up eager to see the Commonwealth flourish under her loving care, but it was undeniable that it took precious time away from her. It wasn't always possible to bring Hancock along on her trips and she frequently travelled with recruits who either idolized her or thought the rumors to be exaggerated and wanted to expose her as a fraud.    
  
She felt particularly lonely on her last night at Greygarden. A pair of scavengers had thought the robot settlement to be easy pickings, that the place that produced quality food for the less fortunate settlements would somehow be less guarded because there were no human settlers.  
  
The place had been heavily fortified with turrets covering all angles and high walls that had luckily slowed the scavengers down enough for a Minuteman patrol to react and come to their aid. Three robots had been shot at, two with extensive damage to their hull but with functioning electronics, only needing slight repair and management, and one robot that had taken the brunt of the attack.  
  
It laid in a heap by the maingate, screws and gears scattered on the ground like snowfall and its arms spread out dramatically. Sturges had been called to join them as the Minutemens expert engineer, and it had looked like a proper TV drama crime scene.  
  
The General had forced herself to suppress a giggle when he squatted down next to the body, poked around the wires and circuitboards and said as-a-matter-of-factly; "Yep. It's a goner."  
  
The rest of the settlement was alright, save from a robot that apparently had dramatic wailing coded in his program, and the General planned her return to the Castle. Hancock remained at the headquarters in her place, patiently organizing her papers and workload until she came back. He spent some time with Shaun as well, though he kept a distance.  
  
Once, late at night when the lantern was low on oil and the room was more lit up by the moon than the flame, he had confided in her, expressing worry that he wasn't good enough to be a parent to her son. That he didn't expect to become his father but that Shaun may never accept him at all, whether it was because he was a ghoul or because he just didn't have it in him to be a dad.  
  
The thought had crossed her as well. She never doubted Hancocks ability to be a role model but Shauns memories were fabricated by the Institute who never regarded the people on the surface with good intentions. It was possible they had fed Shaun a diet of fear and loathing of ghouls, escaped synths and the general populace of the wasteland, though if these were thoughts he harbored he hid them well.  
  
If she could spend more time with her son, she would know what he thought about things.  
  
She hated that she had to leave her boy alone for days, sometimes weeks, at the time. Hancock could tag along occasionally but the wasteland was no place for a child and the places she went had danger in the air around them, suffocatingly thick at times that left her gasping for air when she woke up.  
  
But come morning she would return and she'd be home in time for dinner. Spend an hour or so debriefing with Preston, get up to date with missions and rumors around the Commonwealth, give her recommendation and orders accordingly before she could relax from her general duties and briefly become a mother again. 

 

* * *

  
  
The General was due at any moment and despite her outstanding survival skills, Hancock still couldn't settle the anxious void in his gut. Half his mind was focused on the courtyard, looking for signs of her navy blue coat or a guard welcoming her return and the other half listened to Shaun tinker in the workshop.  
  
"... and if you cut this wire here, it'll keep going but without the... Mister Hancock?"  
  
His eyes lingered on the courtyard, turning his head before he could turn his gaze. Shaun was looking up at him, curiously at first but then frowning.  
  
"Are you listening to me?"  
  
Hancock emptied his lungs in a small laugh, extending his arm to ruffle Shauns hair. He hesitated for a second, worried that the kid would recoil but he'd gone too far already in his motion.  
  
"Tryin' to, kid. Seems a little to advanced for your ol' man Hancock though. I ain't as smart as you."  
  
They shared a smile before Shaun returned to his mechanics, still explaining every step of the way while Hancock resumed watching with feigned interest. There was no mistaking that this was the Generals son, that was for damn sure.  
  
She'd told him about going to college, studying for a lawdegree she never got to use, but he couldn't help but feel that despite her talent speaking with and for people, her real skill was with machines.  
  
When they were out in the 'wealth, fixing things and raising hell for the bad guys, she'd pick up a desk fan and see potential where most folks would see scrap for sale. She'd even touched up on his shotgun and he wasn't sure how but it packed a bigger punch now.  
  
"... and if I place this thing here and connect it with... this part, it's done!"  
  
Shaun proudly presented the alarmclock he had restored to its former glory, a radio and clock in one package. The tunes of Diamond City Radio crackled from the speakers and considering the state it had been in, it couldn't've been easy to get it even that far. Shaun had picked it from a scrap pile, it'd been destined to be picked a part and sorted but he had snuck it out and hid it under his bed until the General had found it. Said he just wanted to see if he could fix it.  
  
He was the Generals son, without a doubt.  
  
"You take after ya mother, ya know that? I see a lot of her in you."  
  
The comment seemed to take him by surprise, startling him before he broke into a big smile.  
  
"Thanks, Mister Hancock!"  
  
It was far from a milestone but he figured he was getting better at talking to the kid. He gently bumped his shoulder against Shauns, trying to break the awkwardness from his limbs. He was about to ask what he was going to use the clock for when a commotion from the courtyard stopped him before he even took the breath to speak with. Someone shouted that the General was back and in a heartbeat Shaun jumped out of his chair and was out the workshop.  
  
Hancock wasn't far behind but kept his distance as Shaun zero'd in on his mother, running at full speed with his arms wide open. The General dropped her backpack with a thud, squatted down to scoop him in and swiftly twirled him around in a hug. Shaun was laughing in pure joy, holding on tightly until she returned his feet to the ground but before she let him go she bombared his cheek with kisses, embarrasing him the way only a mother could.  
  
"Have you been good?" she asked him when she finally released him from her grip, allowing him to stagger slightly at his freedom.  
  
"Yeah! Me and Mister Hancock got you a present."  
  
Shaun ran back to the workshop and Hancock stepped forward to welcome his General back.  
  
"Lucky kid." he remarked and before he could ask her how her trip had been, she launched herself forward with a mischevious grin.  
  
It wasn't as if their relationship was a secret but their displays of affection had generally been in private. When she grabbed his face with her hands and firmly pulled herself closer, peppering the bottom half of his face with quick but tender kisses, he was thrown off his game, stumbling awkwardly and with his mouth slightly open in awe. Had his heart not beaten like a drum in his chest he would've assumed he was dead.  
  
But as quickly as she had stunned him she let him go, walking behind him to see what Shaun brought her. The General thanked her son generously for the radio, giving him another big hug and just as Hancock collected himself, touching his cheek gently to feel the fire under his skin that she had brought from the depths of his body, Preston emerged from the Generals quarters.  
  
He looked worried, eyebrows in a deep frown but eyes focused and Hancock could smell the trouble before he spoke. The General hadn't noticed him yet and Hancock intercepted Preston before he could reach her, thinking that maybe he could spare her another moment of peace with her son.  
  
Preston worked too hard for his own good, being the first to rise in the morning and the last to turn in at night. Hancock could see the strain in his eyes, small red lines across the white and slight sheen of sweat on his skin that revealed that whatever news he came bearing weren't good.  
  
He seemed to notice Hancocks intentions and his face relaxed a bit, slowing down until he stopped next to the ghoul. Hancock wasn't an official minuteman but his close cooperation and relationship with the General earned him information and authority that wasn't given to many. Preston appriciated his help.    
  
"What's up?" Hancock asked him, leading him a bit further away to keep the General from overhearing.  
  
"When the General was returning from Greygarden we got a radiotransmission from Sturges. Says a trader recognized one of the scavengers that attacked."  
  
He seemed unsure how to continue, glancing over to the General.  
  
"He, uh... It's yet to be confirmed but the trader believes the scavenger was at Bunker Hill a few days before the attack, talking to a man who wasn't... Wasn't a wastelander, too wellbuilt. Said there was something in his eyes too, thought the guy was odd."  
  
"You're not saying the Institute...?"  
  
"No! No. Thank god no, but Sturges said it sounded like he described a Brotherhood soldier. You know the type. Big and arrogant."  
  
Hancock scoffed. Yeah, he knew the type.  
  
"So you're saying this guy saw the scav talkin' to a Brotherhood soldier? What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Well, we're not sure. And it's not confirmed so he could be wrong but the Institute is gone and they're still here. A man fitting a soldiers description, a description that barely fits anyone in the Commonwealth is seen talking to a guy that ends up attacking a settlement..."  
  
Hancock took a moment to process his thoughts. The General held the radio in one of her hands and kept Shauns hand in her other, looking over her shoulder to the ghoul and the Minuteman. He saw the question in her eyes and nodded that they could rendevouz later after Shaun had been put to sleep, and she nodded softly back, smiled at Preston and returned to her bedroom to put the clock somewhere.  
  
"You think the Brotherhood was behind the attack."  
  
He could see the tension build in Prestons shoulders.  
  
"That's a serious accusation." he continued and Preston nodded in agreement.  
  
"It's a longshot too, but if it's true..."  
  
"We're in deep shit."  
  


* * *

  
She had taken a few liberties and stayed longer than she knew she should've, especially considering how strained Preston had walked over. Hancock, bless his heart, took a bullet for her and it was because of him that she had been allowed to put her boy to sleep. It was so rare, to sit next to his bed, to tuck him in and brush the strands from his face while he blissfully dreamt.  
  
To spend a moment wondering what he dreamt of. Did he see a brighter future ahead? Could she create it for him?  
  
But whatever had frightened her boys still remained and the General slowly tore herself away from her son to join Hancock and Preston in the mission-room. The Castle was quiet and peaceful, most minutemen either asleep or on guard and only the gentle violin of the radiostation sailed through the air.  
  
It had been a long day traveling across the Commonwealth, but beautiful. A few perfect clouds had littered the sky but as the day passed so had the clouds and the sky was now flawless and open. The sky at the horizon was orange and bled into pink and purple until the inevitable darkness consumed the rest. Little bright white stars speckled the deep dark blue of space and everytime the General gazed at the universe it knocked the breath out of her.  
  
Sometimes she wished she was still on top of that car with Hancock, blissfully content in the moment.  
  
But she had a job to do. Preston and Hancock were speaking in hushed voices despite being behind closed door and when she entered without knocking they both went silent and jerked their eyes to the door.  
  
"Jeez. That bad, huh?" she said, closing the door behind her.  
  
"First things first," Hancock said, pulling a chair from the table as an invitation. "How was your trip?"  
  
Preston took a seat on the opposite side of the table, looking at her attentively.  
  
"It was fine. Got spotted by a raider patrol but they ran when they saw it was me."  
  
Hancock smirked and took the seat beside her. "That's my girl."  
  
"For people smart enough to leave the General alone, they sure are dumb enough to keep attacking your settlements." Preston chimed in. Hancock hummed in agreement.  
  
"Well," the General sighed. "The last idiot is yet to be born. So what's the bad news?"  
  
The air in the room was thick and she wasn't sure if it was because of the tension building up as each second passed or if it was simply poorly ventilated. But Preston looked high strung, a sheen of sweat stuck to his skin and his eyes were wide and focused. Hancock in turn looked uncharacteristically serious, not like he usually did when they discussed politics and theories under the influence of mentats. He was quiet now, still. Too calm for the storm that felt like it was right around the corner.  
  
"When you were travelling back we got a transmission from Sturges. A passing trader recognized one of the scavengers that attacked the settlement and claims..." Preston took a deep breath. "Claims that they saw him at Bunker Hill talking to a man who fits the description of a Brotherhood soldier."  
  
Both men stared at her, patiently waiting for her reaction.  
  
"Uhm... yeah? I mean, what do _you_ mean? What are you saying?"  
  
"Ya don't think it's suspicious?" Hancock asked her. "Scav is seen talking to a tincan right before he attacks one of your settlements. I don't know 'bout you but usually scavs try to stay outta trouble."  
  
"Not to mention that the Institute is gone, thanks to us no less. And they're still here." Preston said.  
  
"Hold on a minute. Are you sure they were talking to a Brotherhood soldier? Are you sure it's even the same scavenger?"  
  
"Not a lot of folks can pass off lookin' like a tincan."  
  
"But it's not unheard of."  
  
"I trust the trader. They had no reason to lie to us."  
  
"Maybe it was his evil twin brother."  
  
"Sunshine..."  
  
"I'm just saying, it makes no sense."  
  
"But the Brotherhood of Steel is still in the Commonwealth despite the end of the Institute, which was their goal. There are too many coincidences to ignore. And if they... if this means what we think it means, it's bad."  
  
"And what exactly do you think it means?"  
  
The General could feel the warmth seep out of her body. They made a good point but she didn't want to believe it.  
  
"We think it means the Brotherhood is testin' the waters. Testin' to see how strong we are. Wouldn't put it past them to see if they can wipe us out after we dealt with the bogeyman, seize power of a weakened 'wealth."  
  
"Or," Preston added. "Maybe they're just trying to get us under their control. Harness our settlements and workpower. The attack was on one of the major farms. I don't think they expected to be here this long either, maybe they're running out of resources."  
  
"But we took out the Institute. We not only found a secret underground lab with overpowered weaponry and technology, we defeated them as well. Beat them. Won. And you don't think the Brotherhood recognizes our power?"  
  
"Well," Hancock said, nudging her leg with his foot. "You did most of that on your own."  
  
"He's right. The Minutemen wouldn't have stood a chance without you. They probably know that."  
  
"They look down on everyone who ain't them. Maybe they're scared of ya, maybe they feel they gotta take you down to prove somethin'."  
  
"So you really think the Brotherhood convinced someone to attack one of our settlements? To see how strong we are?"  
  
"Well, we still don't know for sure. But it's too suspicious to ignore."  
  
"So what do we do?"  
  
Silence befell them and they all looked down to think. What could the Brotherhood want? How were they supposed to deal with the most advanced military force left in the wasteland? What if the Brotherhood really wanted the Minutemen gone? And what if it was just a mere coincidence?  
  
"There's a lot of 'what ifs' here, boys." the General said softly. Which was the greater risk? Ignoring the possible threat and getting attacked unprepared? Or starting a war they could avoid all together?  
  
"I think we should stand down for now. It's too dangerous to risk antagonising them." Preston said. He looked defeated, upset as if there had already been a battle and they'd lost. The General wanted to place his head on her chest, hug him and comfort him the way he deserved to be comforted. He'd been through so much and he worked so hard, never expecting anything in return.  
  
"Nah, they want to fuck with us? I say we give 'em hell. Show 'em who they're messin' with." Hancock had been through some rough times as well, she thought. It was only through taking initiative and ending the terror by force that he had overcome and survived. The Brotherhood was just another tyrant and they couldn't be allowed to go too far.  
  
"Maybe I should just go talk to them."  
  
The men stared at her, seemingly unable understand if she was serious or not.  
  
"Talk to them? Sunshine, they ain't in the business of talkin'."  
  
"I have to agree, General. They might get offended if you ask them about it and they know the Minutemen protect ghouls and synths alike. I don't think they like that very much."  
  
"True." she said, crossing her legs and leaning back with an arm slung over the backrest. "But who went to lawschool here, boys? Who ruled the fucking debate team?"  
  
Hancock grimaced and Preston looked worried. She liked to think she was sensible and calculating but the two men both knew that the only thing she really planned was the future of the Minutemen. Everything else was up in the air with her.  
  
"General, I'm well aware of your high education but I don't think it will work in this case."  
  
"You're gonna walk in there and, what? Casually mention that ya think they're pickin' a fight and you ain't havin' it? It ain't going to work."  
  
"Come now, boys. You've seen me in action. Remember Sinjin? I talked his people into running away while pretending to be a fictional comicbook hero."  
  
"Honey, they were dumb raiders."  
  
"What about when I convinced Darla to leave Skinny Malone? And then convinced him not to kill me for it?"  
  
"We don't doubt your ability to charm people, General, but these are military and authoritative people. They won't fall for just anything."  
  
"Look," she said, straightening her back and crossing her arms on the table. "I don't think their kneejerk reaction to seeing me is to shoot me in the face. There's no animosity between us, no drama. Nothing official, anyway."  
  
Hancock leaned back in his char, crossing his arms. Yeah, openly picking a fight with the Brotherhood of Steel was a dumb idea but walking into hostile territory was just as stupid. He didn't want to let her go alone but he also knew damn well what they thought about ghouls.  
  
"I mean, it's not that farfetched that the General of the Minutemen would like to speak to the, what is it? Head of the Brotherhood?"  
  
"Elder." Hancock corrected her.  
  
"Right. I'll just say I'm interested in trading for some technology they have. Best case scenario; they got nothing to do with the attack and we get tips on how to run our generators better or something."  
  
"Worst case scenario you get killed and half the 'wealth goes down after you."  
  
"It'll just be a friendly diplomatic chat. I seriously doubt they'd get that aggressive unless I'm actively pissing them off."  
  
"I want to go with you."  
  
Hancock felt a void in his gut grow, she wasn't taking it as seriously as she should. The Brotherhood of Steel weren't as gentle as the Minutemen had been and currently was and the Institute hadn't been a military force. They were up against a behemoth after plowing a field with supermutants and it was as if she couldn't tell the difference. It didn't matter what they thought about ghouls, he wasn't letting her go without protection.  
  
"I can't risk that. What they might do to you? It would send the wrong message too. That, if anything, would be aggravating them."  
  
"I'll go. I should, as your second in command. There's no need to risk your life."  
  
Preston didn't feel thrilled at the prospect of interacting with the Brotherhood, but something had to be done. The General was too valuable to risk sending her into the maw of the beast and as a colonel he had just as much authority for a 'diplomatic chat'. After what happened at Quincy, it was the least he could do for the Minutemen.  
  
"Sure ya can handle that alone, Garvey? Not saying you ain't good enough for it, we all know who's the better man in here, but you're a little... too nice to deal with the likes of those goons."  
  
"I'll be as nice as I have to be to end this peacefully."  
  
"Boys, enough. I think you're getting way ahead of yourselves."  
  
It was a tricky situation with no discernible perfect solution and it was possible there wasn't a situation to begin with. If they ignored it, however, they could allow the Brotherhood to potentially catch them unaware and completely overpower them but then on the other hand, if they began preparing for war it would be obvious not only to the Brotherhood but to the people of the Commonwealth. That kind of panic was not something they wanted to spread.  
  
"I'll go alone. Hancock, I can't bring a ghoul with me for obvious reasons. And I appriciate your offer, Preston, but if something does go wrong you're next to lead the Minutemen."  
  
Preston sighed. The tension in his body had built up to unbearable levels and he had to force himself to let some of it go. It wasn't even confirmed to be a threat but the whole thing felt off, like the Brotherhood had staged the whole attack but not to see how strong the Minutemen were, but to see how they'd react. Would they be violent enough to demand an eye for an eye or would they be docile and let whoever do whatever to them if they seemed like a big enough threat?  
  
And if the Brotherhood had nothing to do with the attack, if the person seen talking to the scavenger right before he sacrificed his life for nothing wasn't a soldier and just a person who happened to fit the description, who was he? Was there another faction in play? With the Institute gone there was a void  of power that could be filled but he was sure the Minutemen had seized that opportunity.  
  
"So what's the plan?" he asked her.  
  
Hancock couldn't fight the rage that simmered in his bones. Those Brotherhood bastards should've been long gone and yet here they were, still looking down on the Commonwealth in that fucking ship of theirs. Still acting like they had infinite power and wisdom, like the ground was too dirty for their boots. Arrogant assholes.  
  
He didn't know what had brought on the attack, if it was by the Brotherhoods hands or just a random moron thinking they could rob a heavily fortified settlement with a pipepistol, but he did know that the Brotherhood had to leave. That they weren't welcome anymore.  
  
That if the Minutemen couldn't control those trashcans the Commonwealth was in deep shit. No ghoul or synth was safe as long as they remained at that airport. Diamond City would probably be allowed to continue as usual but Goodneighbor would be torched to the ground. Settlements would become labor camps. People, good honest folks, would be executed because they didn't fit the Brotherhoods cookie-cutter mold.  
  
"Well," the General said as she relaxed back in the chair. "I guess plan A is that I head on over to Cambridge police station, where I helped those guys fend off the attack? They owe me for that so at least they can't just dismiss me. I tell them I need to see their boss, say I want to trade technology for resources and get myself onboard that balloon."  
  
"You think they'll accept a trade for resources? They don't seem to want to share their technology in general, much less for some mutfruit and corn."  
  
"Well you said it yourself, Preston. Maybe they didn't plan to be here this long. Maybe they're getting desperate for a viable income of proper food."  
  
"You're not gonna feed these assholes, right? They gotta go, sunshine, they can't stay."  
  
"We don't know if they're planning on staying. Maybe they need to bulk up for their trip home."  
  
"In any case, General, are you sure that's something we can promise them? We've been expanding the farms so we got surplus but it's far from enough to feed an entire army."  
  
She opened her mouth for a rebuttal but kept silent. There was no way she'd let her people starve or go hungry to appease the Brotherhood, no matter what threat they posed. But Preston had a point.  
  
The food that wasn't passed around the settlements were either sold to traders or pickled or dried for longterm storage but it was far from feeding the entire Brotherhood for a trip back to wherever they came from. The only real way to offer them resources would be to put a strain on her people, and it was unacceptable. If she pulled support from her settlements and gave it to the Brotherhood she'd only make them look more imposing than they were.  
  
"Well we don't really need to make a trade. We're fine without their technology. As long as I get onboard that ship, I can promise them the world, we just need to find out what's happening on their end."  
  
"You think they're just gonna let you waltz in there? They ain't stupid, they know we ain't got much to offer them. They're gonna want something."  
  
"They can't expect the impossible either though, I'll just have to talk the Elder and work something out. It's going to be fine."  
  
"You don't know that! This is serious!"  
  
"Hancock, calm down."  
  
Hancock had abruptly stood up, knocking the chair backwards with a thud. It felt like a whirlwind was raging inside him, like he was losing control and a voice in the back of his head told him he needed to collect himself but it was too much.  
  
"You're telling me you're just gonna walk in there, have a little chat and that'll be the end of it? If they really planned that attack, you think they'll just let ya go?! What if their plan was to get you onboard that ship? What if the second you show up at Cambridge they shot you dead and... What if-... Why can't you see how serious this is?!"  
  
The General and Preston were both stunned, silently watching Hancock unravel before them. He was visibly shaking, teeth gritted and he was staring the General down, looking as if he was picking a barfight. Her mouth was open but she didn't know what to say, her lips forming incoherent words that raced through her mind.  
  
Preston didn't know what to do either. Hancock never got out of control, always keeping his cool no matter how much pressure he had on him and yet he was looking like he was about to turn feral. He agreed, it was far more serious than the General assumed but she was a capable fighter and had overcome so much it seemed like the Brotherhood would only be another notch on her belt.  
  
"Hancock... It's okay." she spoke softly. Her hands gently reached out to touch his arms, feeling how tense he was underneath his frock. "It's going to be okay."  
  
He quickly withdrew from her touch, startling her, and nearly tripped over the chair while backing away.  
  
"You can't go. That's it. That's final, you're not going. Whatever those fuckers got planned for us we'll deal with, but you ain't going. Not tomorrow, not next week, not ever."  
  
Before she could respond he left the room with a slam of the door, leaving the General and Preston together in surprised silence. Prestons eyes were impossibly wide and he was sitting as still as he could. Somehow he felt like a kid who watched his parents fight, and the General and Hancock never fought. They had disagreements, of course, but they never really shouted at eachother.  
  
The General herself sat frozen with her arms outstretched, touching the ghost of where he'd stood. What the hell had happened? Was she missing something? Why was he so upset about her meeting with the Brotherhood? She knew what he felt about them and she shared his sentiment, she wanted them gone just as much, but there were too many risks with the attack to just ignore it.  
  
Maybe he was tired of her. The second the sentence invaded her thoughts she knew it was wrong, Hancock wouldn't do that to her, but it didn't make the fear go away. Maybe he was done waiting for her to come around, like Nate had. It was dumb and she knew that but what if? The night had been filled with 'what if's and she couldn't stop it. What if he was done putting his life on hold for her?  
  
She forced her doubt away and turned her attention to Preston.  
  
"Did something happen while I was away?"  
  
"Uh..." In truth, Preston didn't spend much time socialising and most of his interactions with Hancock had been related to either the General or the Minutemen. But as far as he could remember, the past few days had gone by just the same as it always had. "I don't think so. I don't-... It could be that he's just worried."  
  
The General arched an eyebrow.  
  
"Just worried? I think he exploded."  
  
Preston let out a huff of air, something between a sigh and a laugh. Things had finally begun to look brighter for the Commonwealth and it was as if the universe saw him relax and decided to throw some new trouble his way.  
  
"I think I need to find him, talk with him. Before it gets swept under the rug." the General said, standing up to pick up the chair from the ground. "Can't let it fester."  
  
"Alright, General. I'm sorry things turned out this way."  
  
She stopped for a second and turned her eyes over to him. He had come so far since that day in Concord. Overcome so many great obstacles and here he was, ready to climb another mountain.  
  
She remembered when she told him her plans to infiltrate the Institute, when she asked for his help and he had immediately accepted without hesitation. He'd been so ready to fight the bogeyman so no one else had to and here he was yet again, gearing up for another war he shouldn't have to endure. Suddenly her heart ached for him. He didn't deserve any of this.  
  
The General walked around the table, grabbed his face with both of her hands and placed a firm kiss on his forehead before she pulled him in for a hug. The poor man was too surprised to react any other way and only gently placed his hands on the back of her hips in a half attempt of a hug.  
  
"It's going to be okay, Preston. We'll get through this together."  
  
She placed another kiss on his head before she let go, turning around to go after Hancock. Preston didn't have a lot of experience with tender moments, it was a harsh wasteland after all, and his cheeks burned from the affection she had shown him. Trusting the Minutemen and the Commonwealth to her had been the best decision of his life. He was proud to call her his General, prouder still to call her his friend.  
  
Things were about to get rough and he wasn't looking forward to the political tango that was bound to come but if the General was on their side, on the good side, there was no way they could lose. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are adored, constructive criticism is appriciated   
> (i crave validation)
> 
> also im kinda realizing how shit i am with romance.

She found him ontop of the Castles walls, looking out over the unending ocean. Fittingly he had his back turned against the Brotherhoods vessel as if the message couldn't be clearer. They didn't say a word to eachother when she sat down beside him, relishing in the moment of peace before they acknowledged the elephant in the room.  
  
The General placed a hand on his thigh to get his attention and to softly comfort him, stroking up and down his leg. She tried to catch his eyes but he was staring defiantly into the horizon, his eyes cold and hard. It wasn't like him to get this upset and to storm off abruptly, walking away before they could talk it through.   
  
"Are you okay?" she asked him. Her voice felt shaky and she couldn't deny that she was scared. "What's wrong?"  
  
Hancock bared his teeth in a growl and his eyes were suddenly not so cold but they weren't tender. There was a fire in them, roaring wild and free, the way she'd only seen in the middle of battle when his shotgun didn't feel adequate enough and he'd twirl through enemies with a knife.   
  
"Your attitude, that's what."  
   
"Excu-"  
  
"Do you even understand how bad this is?"  
  
"Wha-... Of course I do."  
  
"Really? 'Cause you sure don't fuckin' act like you do."  
  
"What the hell? How am I supposed to act then?!"  
  
"We might be about to get royally fucked and your idea to solve this shit is to stroll over for a chat? It ain't going to work!"  
  
"I'm sorry, is there a manual for this kind of situation? 'Cause I'd love to read that."  
  
Her heart was pounding furiously in her chest, unable to believe his outburst. It wasn't as if she had training. She'd been a lawyer and then a mother, not a leader of free people. She didn't know how to handle the threat of annihilation other than stay calm and pretend it was going to be fine. For god's sake, she had grown up with a war hanging over her head, it had been the only way to get through the day.   
  
"I understand why you're angry," she began, speaking softly to defuse the tension. "But I'm trying, okay? It's difficult situation and I don't have a lot of options but we... we've been through worse, remember? And we survived. And I know we'll survive again, it's going to work out. Okay?"  
  
Hancock felt his muscles strain against the scars on his skin as if he was ready to throw a punch. This wasn't the kind of fight he was used to. In Goodneighbor you usually settled things with a knife and while he knew this wasn't a situation he could or wanted to stab his way out of, he couldn't stop his musclememory from itching to reach for a weapon.   
  
"It ain't the same."  
  
"I know but we've gone through worse with less."  
  
Unable to keep his calm, Hancock violently stood up, each action exaggerated through the tension in his limbs.   
  
"They ain't Vic! They ain't a bunch of nerds in a bunker. They're trained soldiers who are convinced they ain't doing nothin' wrong by killin' any ghouls they lay their eyes on. They feel justified in torturing people because they may or may not be a synth! You can't talk your way outta this!"  
  
"You think I don't know that?! You think I don't know how utterly fucked we are right now? But what am I supposed to do? We don't _know_ they're behind the attack, we don't _know_ why they're still here but we _do_ know that in a direct confrontation right now we don't stand a chance. "  
  
He staggered in a circle, hands waving around his head as if there were too many thoughts and they were exploding out of his skull.   
  
"They-... They got more guns than us. They're stronger, got more experience. We can't prepare against that. And you wanna surrender yourself to them!"  
  
"We have to do something, I'm just tryi-"  
  
"What do you think they'll do to us if you're gone? You're the ace up our sleeve! If you're gone what do you think they'll do to your people? To the Slog? What do you think they'll do to Shaun?"  
  
" _Don't you dare_."  
  
The General rose to her feet and kept her eyes steady, boring into his. He seemed to have realized his mistake and his expression softened but the words were still hanging in the air.  
  
"Don't you for a fucking minute think I'm not aware what they'd do to my son."  
  
"I didn't mea-"  
  
" _Shut_! up. Let me finish."   
  
She took a step closer to him and he halfexpected her to slap him.   
  
"I know damn well what they stand for, what they want to do to the Commonwealth. You think there weren't any fascists in my time? You think I don't know how they'll destroy everything we've built here?"  
  
He felt shame over his outburst and hung his head. Her entire world had gone up in flames thanks to people like the Brotherhood, of course she knew what they'd do. He wasn't even sure why he was reacting to violently, why it made him feel as crazy as it did. Was it the thought of losing everything he had fought to hell and back for? Or was it the thought that no matter how hard you tried, no matter what you sacrificed, there'd always be something worse around the corner?  
  
"I'm sorry." he said so softly it was almost inaudible.   
  
The General took another step forward until she was standing so close she could see the threads stitching his frock together. She touched it carefully, tracing the pattern of a black thread that she had put there herself, sewing it back together for him after a raider had yanked a little too hard to throw his aim off of from his friend.  
  
"I get your frustration but I'm doing what I can with what I got."  
  
He almost wished she'd slap him, if only to prove how angry she was as well. But instead her fingertips traced the ridges on his cheek, trailing it down to his chin so softly it annoyingly tickled. The chill breeze of the night made him shiver, forcing him to react under her touch.   
  
Hancock sighed deeply and let his forehead rest against hers.  
  
"Don't forget who we are, Hancock. You're the handsome Mayor of Goodneighbor, the town of the people, for the people. Right?"  
  
It was unbearable how kind she was to him, how sweet she could manage to remain after all the bitter things the world had thrown at her. How could he have gotten this lucky?  
  
"And you're the motherfuckin' General of the goddamn Minutemen."   
  
She smiled sweetly and pulled him into a hug.   
  
"Exactly. We cant lose."  
  
Hancock nestled his face next to her neck, resting on her shoulder. She shuddered as his breath washed over her skin and she pulled him in tighter, closing her eyes to enjoy the moment but doing so made the world behind her eyes spin.  
  
"Can we go to sleep now?"  
  
"Christ, sunshine, I'm sorry. Of course."

It wasn't ideal and it was too volatile to just stroll over to the Brotherhood for a chat but there were no other tangible solutions. He had to have faith in her and he did, but the hate for the Brotherhood ran just as deep as his love for her.   
  
They seperated for only a second before her hand quickly linked itself with his and she hurriedly began to pull him along, descending the concrete stairs a little too fast for his liking in the dark. The rest of the night passed in silence.   
  
They undressed and changed into their nightwear, lying down next to eachother on the small bed in the Generals quarters. She'd refused a bigger, more comfortable bed on the grounds that she wanted no special treatment, but she revelled in the closeness that was enforced when there wasn't room to drift apart.   
  
It allowed the General to be the big spoon, hugging his thin body close to her and perhaps it was rude to disturb his sleep as often as she did but she couldn't resist placing small kisses on the back of his head. Each time he'd grunt and pull her arms tighter around him, feeling safe and warm in her embrace, and each time she'd have to resist climbing over him to find his lips.   
  
Things were going to be difficult once again, the air would be tense and their moods would be vulnerable but as long as she could sneak her moments like this, as long as she could lie in the dark with her love next to her and share breakfast with her son in the morning, she could endure. They would endure. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the change in past and present! it just sounded better for the dream to be worded like that, couldn't really get it done well enough in past tense. hope it wasn't too confusing or abrupt. I also have no concept of time and have no idea if the time periods in the questline is realistic or not but heck, it is what it is. I also don't know shit about kids ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

_The white walls of the institute scream cleanliness and sterility, a rare sense of familiarity from the dirty rubble of the world above them. She feels like she was walking the halls of a hospital, expecting a nurse in a bleached white dress to pop up from a doorway looking at a chart but the hallway is empty. It feels cold._  
  
_She can faintly hear the beeps of a heart monitor and the coughs her father suffered before he succumbed to his stressful lifestyle, she can even feel the grief grip her heart again._  
  
_She can feel the exhaustion behind her eyes after her 9 hour labor with Shaun, the sore body that laid still in silence and the emptiness that has haunted her ever since his body left her womb._  
  
_She can feel the excitment bustle through her bones as she gets closer to finding him, her baby boy, except he's not a baby but a child now. Somehow she has missed years of his life but somehow she is 210 years older than she was a few months ago anyway, she'll take what she can get._  
  
_Eventually she arrives at the cage of glass and it's her boy, it really is! At last they're reunited! But he looks at her warily and keeps a distance. He jumps back when she paws at the wall that seperates them, he doesn't respond when she says she's finally found him._  
  
_And then He arrives at the door, says a magical phrase and her boy goes limp. He just slumps together as he stands, as if he's a puppet held up by strings, and the man that just came in isn't afraid. She thinks he should be._  
  
_Instead he strikes a conversation and she already knows because she can see Nate in his eyes but her baby is standing right there, trapped in a corner of the room and he's not responding. It makes her feel sick and sometimes she wakes up by vomiting next to the bed, crying and screaming but sometimes she wakes up in silence._  
  
_Her eyes simply open and she hates the world she wakes up in but she's thankful to be out of that dream. The dream she can't stop having. The dream where her baby isn't a baby or a ten year old boy but a dying man who has done such evil things she can't even fully grasp it._  
  
_There's nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. There's not even air to breathe and the man next to her is a sweet comfort but even he has his limits so she swallows it when she can, hides it inside her where it only hurts her and she tries to go back to sleep._

 

* * *

  
  
He knew where to find her when he woke up alone. He knew why she was awake and where she would go for comfort, thinking he wouldn't keep his arms just as open this time as the many times before.  
  
He could understand her pain. He'd lost his family to the institute as well and the wasteland had changed him into someone else, one way or another. Though, he supposed, he couldn't understand the pain of losing a son. To see him become a monster more than twice her age, to be forced to say her goodbyes to a man who spat on what family was supposed to mean. To end up taking care of his pet project that sounded too cruel to be true until Hancock met the boy.  
  
His steps were light, making almost no sound as he took his time walking over to where Shaun slept and, as usual, she was sitting on the floor next to his bed, legs crossed over eachother under the bed so she could be as close to him as she could without waking him up. She didn't hear Hancock come up to them but she wasn't surprised when he placed a hand on her shoulder and squatted down next to her.  
  
"How are ya?" he asked.  
  
She leaned her head on his hand, pressed her temple against his knuckles and sighed softly. Shaun was breathing deeply and rhytmically, his chest rising and falling with each breath and he was safe. He was in her fortress and nothing bad could get in here but something was gnawing at her core, telling her something was wrong.  
  
"Is it the Brotherhood?" he continued, accepting her silence as an answer.  
  
"No." she whispered. "But something feels... off. It's not them, but it's something."  
  
Hancock sat down next to the bed properly, leaning on an arm facing her.  
  
"What, like the dream? Was it the same one?"  
  
The Institute had left its mark on everyone but people would eventually move on and leave the memories behind them. The General didn't have that luxury. Everytime she saw her son she saw Father and it hurt. She saw the bombs go off in the distance, felt the shockwave wash her with gravel and dust.  
  
Everytime he cried she remembered Nate and his murder, when he laughed she remembered the years she missed in cryosleep. Not the ten years of little Shaun but the 60 of Father. The years she could've spent teaching him to be a man, a good person.  
  
The years he had instead spent on destroying families, torturing innocent people in the false name of science, for the sake of advancing humanity while spitting on the people who worked themselves to the bone to survive.  
  
She nodded, it was the same dream.  
  
"What can I do for ya?" he asked her, rubbing her back in soft motions with his palm.  
  
It was hard not to smile and she couldn't refuse the warmth that spread from his hand into her skin. She turned to him and gave him a kiss on the corner of his lips.  
  
"Keep being adorable."  
  
He hated how she could make his guts feel like a whirlwind and yet he loved it. It was intoxicating and new to him, a different kind of high than he was used to, and all she had to do was say the right thing every once in a while when he wasn't prepared. Had she not been in a distressed state from her dream he'd whisk her from the floor in his arms and carry her to their bed, cradle her in his arms until she felt safe again, but he knew better than to interrupt a moment between the General and her son.  
  
He'd seen her shoot better men for less.  
  
A part of him yearned to take her to bed and kiss those thoughts away, to touch her in places he'd touched so many times before with different people and with her it would've been a completely new world. He could make her forget her name with his expert hands, his lips that weren't much at all but enough to get the job done, and he knew he could because he'd done it before.  
  
But she didn't want it and he felt shame for thinking those thoughts, for putting her in situations she didn't want to be in even though it was all in his mind. She had told him what Nate had been and how it had made her feel and he refused to become that man. The wasteland didn't shape boys into gentlemen but he refused to become the man Nate was, the threat she had to endure in her own home.  
  
As quickly as the thoughts came up he forced them away, killed them when he could and locked them away when he couldn't.  
  
"Are ya comin' back to sleep?"  
  
The General looked back to the sleeping bundle on the bed.  
  
"I need another moment, I think." she said. In truth she was terrified that as soon as he was out of her sight, out of her reach, he'd dissapear again. Finding him the first time had been against all odds and through tremendous sacrifice. She had been lucky but she wagered her luck would run out eventually.  
  
"Alright." he replied, shuffling to his feet.  
  
He pressed his lips against her head before he made his return to their bed, surpressing a yawn as he turned the corner. As the Mayor of Goodneighbor he'd dealt with a lot of depressed drifters and through most of those encounters he'd known what to say and do to alleviate the pain, even if only for a moment.  
  
Some jet to calm the panic attacks, mentats to see things clearer and if chems didn't do it for 'em there was always alcohol or a good ol' fashioned talk. Sometimes all they needed was for someone to listen, for someone to care and ask.  
  
But he couldn't help her. She was untouchable in her grief and it killed him in ways he didn't understand. All he could do was be ready when she came to him, pressing herself close to him with tears running down her face. It didn't feel enough but he knew he was only a person. Not even the great Mayor could create a miracle, no matter how much he wished he could. 

 

* * *

  
  
She spent another hour by his side, feeling her legs and butt grow numb with the cold until she dozed off with her head against the mattress. Somehow during her short sleep Shaun had turned to his side facing her, resting his head on his hands as if in a prayer.  
  
If she'd known how to develop film she would've snuck a picture and her heart suddenly ached remembering the photoalbums that were now long ash and dust. He'd never know what his grandparents looked like. Did he even know what his father looked like? Had the Institute at least granted him that?  
  
Her little boy looked so peaceful in his sleep and she wondered if it was his youth that allowed him to care less about the dangers of the world or if he truly felt safe by her side. Perhaps the Institute had programmed him into thinking he was safe, thinking he'd never have to endure life above but she knew he hadn't truly been safe in their hands. No synths had been safe while those bastards had been operating and now he would get to grow up free.  
  
But she couldn't help but mourn the years she lost even with this robot-version of her son. Had he taken his first steps at the same age as Father? Did he learn how to read and write at the same age as him, was their handwriting the same? Who checked on him when his teeth were growing to soothe his cries? How had he changed through the years she was missing?  
  
She thought about the pieces of information she had, on what the railroad had told her and what little the scientists had divulged to her. If he got sick, could he be cured like any other boy? If he scrapped his knee, would it heal just the same?  
  
Her mind took her to Kellog, the murdering bastard who had gotten what was coming to him, and his memory of their time together. Father had trusted her boy to that horrible man and allowed him to care for the most important thing in the world. Had he seen him grow? Had he valued those moments like she would've? She scoffed softly, feeling her breath bounce back to her from the sheets.  
  
That man barely felt the bullets pierce his chest when she pushed him through deaths door, he hadn't given a damn about her son.  
  
She could remember his memory vividly. Him sitting in the deskchair with a loaded gun in his hand, as if he's never heard of safety before. Shaun playing on the ground infront of him with his comics, seemingly oblivious to what kind of monster he was in the company of. X6-88 blasting in suddenly in a blinding bright light, taking Shaun away. The song on the radio... _It's all over but the crying._  
  
Did shaun remember any this? How long ago had it been? Shauns nose scrunched up briefly and she smiled, softly brushing a few hairs from his face. The Institute had fallen roughly 5 months ago and the time between that and her trip down his memory lane had been an additional 7 months. Almost a full year.  
  
It had been almost a full year since she'd first seen her young boy in his memory and there had to be more time between Kellogs death and when the memory was created. So it had been more than a year and Shaun looked... almost exactly the same?  
  
The bad feeling in her gut came crashing back and she felt a cold creep over her skin as if she'd taken a dip in the ocean. He hadn't changed. There were a few scars and scrapes, results from the firefight out of the Institute and accidents he'd had as he played around the castle. But his nose and ears were the same size, his height and weight hadn't changed and his hair... He hadn't even had a haircut yet. How had she not noticed this until now?  
  
She tried calming herself by thinking a year wasn't that long but it was futile. A year for a child _was_ a long time and considering what she knew about synths from the Railroad it wasn't impossible to consider that he was... _frozen in time_.  
  
The irony made her stomach churn, wanting to evacuate the undigested remains of her dinner and she quickly scurried away from his bed. She clasped a hand around her mouth incase she couldn't keep it together, muffling her increasing sobs at the same time as she quickly escaped into the courtyard.  
  
Even outside it felt as if there wasn't enough air for her lungs and she began hyperventilating. What kind of sociopathic monster had Father been? What kind of man created a child who wouldn't change, who wouldn't grow with time as he should?  
  
But maybe he would! Maybe she was wrong, remembered him wrong. Maybe she was overreacting. The General was desperately trying to keep herself together, feeling as if she was falling out of her skin. She staggered over through the south gate and the wasteland presented itself for her.  
  
In the distance she could see red flashes light up between buildings, either Brotherhood rifles or Minutemen muskets, and to the right she could see the green radioactive cloud hanging over the glowing sea. To the left of her was only Spectacle Island before the great unending ocean and she felt so small and irrelevant.  
  
How had she even ended up in charge? She was a mother and a lawyer, not a leader of free people and conquerer of evil incarnate. It seemed like a mistake to assume she could just talk to the Brotherhood, just like Hancock had said and while her sobs died down and her violent breaths slowed she sat down on the cold ground, staring out in the distance.  
  
This was the world her son was doomed to live in, to endure in. To forever be a chi- no, that was stupid. There was no way it was true, she must've remembered wrong or Kellog remembered wrong, there had to be something she wasn't thinking about. It was impossible.  
  
There was no way Fa- _Shaun_ had been that cruel, it just simply couldn't be. But the heavy weight in her guts told her that he had been that cruel and she was a fool for denying it. What despicable things had he not done?  
  
She placed her face in her palms and tried to not think. The wind was gentle against her skin and it felt soothing and if she focused hard enough she could almost see the garden her mother had spent her weekends on building. She'd plant flowers and vegetables alike; grand rosebushes around the edges, covering the ugly fence their neighbor had insisted on erecting despite multiple complaints. Tomato stalks and potatos closer to the house so that she could keep a close watch from her window and daisies and carnations gathered around their gardenset.  
  
She could almost feel the grass between her toes and the sun on her skin. She could almost hear her mother call out for her with a tray of lemonade and biscuits. Her mother had been so thrilled when the General announced her pregnancy. Showered Nate with kisses and wouldn't stop smiling for a month.  
  
The footsteps behind her blended with her fantasy and she thought at first it was her father coming to get her with a cigarette in his hand but the man who crouched down next to her was warm and real.  
  
"General?" Preston asked lowly.  
  
When he pressed a gloved hand to her shoulder she burst and fell apart. Tears began to flood again and she almost began to shriek out her sorrows. It startled him at first but he quickly realized the situation and sat down next to her after pulling off his jacket. He draped it around her shoulders and held her close to him, allowing her to sob without shame.  
  
They'd all been there, at some point. In the wasteland it was impossible not to get caught up in the constant uphill battles and after the things the General had had to endure she deserved to cry as loudly as she wanted to.  
  
"It's all shit." she sobbed. "It's all shit and I don't know how to fix it."  
  
"I'm sure things'll work out with the Brotherhood of Steel," he said without really believing it himself, "we just gotta figure out where they stand and act accordingly."  
  
"No it's not... It's not them. I mean, yeah I'm worried about that but it's..."  
  
She sat up straight, wiped the tears of her cheeks and sniffed harshly to keep her nose from running.  
  
"I think something's wrong with Shaun."  
  
His kind gentle eyes calmed her instinctively despite the wrinkles of worry that were creased in his forehead.  
  
"Did something happen?"  
  
"No. That's the problem. Nothing has happened and... I'm not sure if it will."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
She looked away and rested her head on his shoulder again, relishing in the warmth his body and the jacket gave her from the wind. It'd been soothing at first but with her eyes open it was just another cold breeze.  
  
"I just... When I was in Kellogs memory I saw Shaun and I could be remembering it wrong but he looks exactly the same."  
  
The tears began dripping down her face again. It was horrible to think about, it was disgusting and made her sick to her stomach to even consider it could be true but something had been off about the whole thing. Why had Father created Shaun to begin with? As far as the Institutes records he'd been the only child created and she couldn't understand why it had to be him.  
  
"I don't think he's changed. I mean, we know he wasn't born, y'know? We know he was created and we know those motherfuckers manipulated everything and maybe they did something to him."  
  
"Whoa, whoa..."  
  
Preston could barely believe his ears. Now that she'd mentioned it he realized he hadn't really seen the kid grow even an inch but the wasteland did things to your body.  
  
"Maybe... Maybe he's just not used to life above ground? Maybe he's still adjusting?"  
  
"He's a ten year old child! They're supposed to grow like crazy! It's been more than a year since that memory, maybe even decades for all we know and he's exactly the same!"  
  
"That's... General, you really think that's even possible? Wouldn't he remember that?"  
  
"The first time he saw me he was terrified of me and now he thinks I'm his mother. That I gave birth to him. He doesn't even know what he is!"  
  
"But surely..."  
  
"I spent 210 years in a freezer and I remember nothing of it! It was like taking a nap! _A nap!_ "  
  
The General was shrieking in a hushed voice, trying to keep it as low as she could to avoid accidently letting a guard overhear it. It wasn't something people needed to know and the less who did the better.  
  
Preston relaxed his shoulders in defeat. He wasn't exactly the expert on synths or cryogenic storage and if it upset the General it had to be taken seriously.  
  
"Do you... have a plan?"  
  
She sighed and slumped together.  
  
"I don't even know something _is_ wrong. And I need to focus on the Brotherhood if that's another threat we gotta deal with and there's just so much..." she said weakly with another sigh.  
  
Going after the Institute hadn't been simple but it had been a singular goal and much of it had been done in the shadows, hidden from unwanted eyes. She'd been free to reach her goals how she saw fit but now there was too much attention on her. She was the General and had to act like it at all times. Her voice wasn't just hers but the dozens of settlements and hundreds of Minutemen and settlers under her guard.  
  
And no matter how much it went against every fibre of her being she had to put them first above her own selfish wants.  
  
"I need to see the Railroad." she said after a moments silence. Preston had resigned to his supportive post, knowing that sometimes there was nothing to say.  
  
"But first I gotta deal with the Brotherhood. I can leave tomorrow."  
  
The General began to rise to her feet, shakily at first as the cold had numbed her legs a bit.  
  
"Uh, General, don't you think that's a bit soon?"  
  
"No point in wasting time."  
  
"But don't you think they might find it suspicious if you want a meeting so soon after that attack, if they're the ones behind it?"  
  
" _If_ they're the ones behind it, maybe. But we get attacked on a weekly basis, it's nothing new for us. Unless they suspect us of suspecting them they shouldn't be on guard."  
  
"Maybe we should talk to Ha-"  
  
"Actually can I ask you for a favor? Could you contact the Railroad and have them send over an agent to Goodneighbor? I'll get Hancock to travel back for some 'Mayoral duties' so it won't be suspicious but I need someone to sniff out Deacon."  
  
She held out her arm to help him to his feet and he accepted silently, waiting for the rest of her command.  
  
"Meanwhile I'll visit the Cambridge Police Station, see if I can get into the Brotherhood and find out what they're up to. I'll rendevouz with Hancock in Goodneighbor before we head back here for an update and... can I ask you to look after Shaun? I know it's a lot but-"  
  
"Yes, ma'am. Of course. You don't have to ask, it would be my honor."  
  
Preston was firm in his eyes and his kindness permeated through to her. She smiled and placed her palm on his cheek.  
  
"You know the Minutemen would be lost without you, right? The whole Commonwealth too."  
  
It was only a slight change from the heat from her own hand but she could feel the blood rushing to his face.  
  
"I- that's not... I mean, I didn't do anything, I-"  
  
"The Minutemen survived because you did. Because you believed in them, in us, and because you kept fighting. The world is lucky to have you in it."  
  
She placed a soft kiss next to her hand on his cheek and he quickly pulled his hat down over his face.  
  
"It's late, Preston. You need your rest." she said, or rather commanded. Her random acts of affection frequently caught him off-guard and he was often terrified of what Hancock would say if he ever saw it. Preston knew she didn't mean anything by it but lovers had a different perspective and Hancock had a reputation with vengeance.  Though, he appriciated that the General was proud of him and her trust was worth more than any threat could ever outweigh.  
  
He took a moment to calm down before he went to meet up with the guards on duty to signal he was turning in for the night. The General in turn headed back to her quarters, hoping the ghoul warming up the bed for her wouldn't be too upset when she woke him up with a cold arm around his waist and quick lips on his skin.  
  
Hancock was a light sleeper, an ability that was treasured in the wasteland, and could fall asleep quickly when needed so when the General had her nightly reflections he didn't mind it all that much. In fact it was quite nice to get some alonetime. Hancock was as social as they came but even he had his limits and needed his space.  
  
When the General snuck into the room, being stealthy enough to fool the common raider but not enough to trick ol' man Hancock, he quietly awoke and giddily awaited her to slip in next to him. Sure enough, once he heard her boots scuffle under their bed and her clothes had been thrown with a thump at a chair he felt the bed shift and the covers lift before she gently moved in.  
  
It was impossible not to smile when her arms snaked around him and pulled him closer and he was about to turn around to meet her expecting lips with with his own before he stopped himself. He realized in the nick of time that his dream up to that point had been less innocent than he'd hoped for and there was no need to surprise her with that considering her dream hadn't been so kind.  
  
Instead he wrapped his arms on top of hers and reeled her in closer, shivering when the breath from her nose danced across the crevices on his skin. She hummed against him, pressing light kisses on the back of his head and neck.  
  
"Feelin' better now, sunshine?"  
  
"Yeah. And no. Had a chat with Preston, got a favor to ask of you."  
  
"Oh yeah? Lay it on me."  
  
She snuggled closer, leaning her head across his shoulder to line her face next to his. Their cheeks squished together, or at least hers did, and the position was bordering uncomfortable.  
  
"I kinda need you to go back to Goodneighbor as soon as you can and wait for a Railroad agent. I need you to find Deacon for me."  
  
He twisted his head the best he could to face her even slightly.  
  
"Whatchu need those guys for?"  
  
"Ah... it's a lot to go into right now but I'll explain it to you in the morning. Okay?"  
  
Hancock didn't like not knowing what's up but he trusted her. To an extent.  
  
"Anythin' else ya gotta surprise me with before I try and settle into sleep?"  
  
She released her grip on his waist and allowed to him recline gently onto his back so that they could establish eyecontact.  
  
"I kissed Preston on the cheek and told him how important he is."  
  
"Good. Give him another one from me next time." Hancock said without missing a beat. "Is that all?"  
  
The General narrowed her eyes and playfully smiled, doing her damndest to lure him into a sweet mood.  
  
"That's your reaction? You're not serenading him while I'm away, are you?"  
  
His lips cracked into a grin that quickly reached his eyes and butterflies fluttered through her guts. She knew it was best to tell him about her scheduled departure as soon as possible but he'd never let her go without thoroughly discussing it with her. Cons of dating a politician, she presumed. Telling him now wouldn't help them fall asleep faster.  
  
"I could never." he said, tangling his bony fingers in her hair and bringing her close for a proper kiss.  
  
She'd have to drop it on him in the morning, along with her suspicions about Shaun and she felt guilty. Those were heavy subjects and she was excluding him from the narrative which wasn't fair but quick acting had been what got her this far. Couldn't leave room for doubts to grow. And hell, it was possible she'd be denied meeting the Elder right away anyway, the sooner she could request it the better.  
  
He could tell there was something else in the way she didn't fully relax and he had a fair idea what it could be but after a few more kisses and a whole lot of more cuddling they both drifted off to sleep their remaining few hours. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also sorry for the irregular posting. got super sick suddenly with a fever in the 40s but im better now. ill try to make sure i can post fairly regularly. maybe every monday?  
> (also, am I beating a dead horse with the whole 'everyone gets caught up in emotions' thing? cause i feel like i spend a lot of words on writing that. please let me know what you think)  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im very tired rn and im not ready to proofread it three more times so if you see any typos or if something doesnt make sense, please let me know. thank you.

The Castle was alive and bustling by the time Preston knocked on the door to the Generals quarters. Both Hancock and the General had gone up to have a brief breakfast with Shaun but the General had gone back to sleep for another few hours and she was still snoozing under the blankets, refusing to budge even when Hancock tickled her feet.  
  
He figured it'd been a long night and her schedule was fairly open, no reason why she couldn't sleep in a little, but the knocks on the door were persistent and Hancock reluctantly let him in. No one but Preston bothered to visit the Generals quarters. If she wasn't in her office in the courtyard she was out on a mission and you'd have to go through Preston anyway, it was easier to just consult him in the first place.  
  
He stepped in carefully, eyeing the room before he noticed she was still in bed.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry. I can come back later."  
  
"Nah, it's alright." Hancock replied in her stead. "Must be needing the sleep. Anythin' I can do for ya?"  
  
Hancock grabbed a can of water from a shelf and offered it to Preston who declined with a gesture of his hand. He sat down on the couch with a huff, propping his boots on the table and took a sip himself.  
  
"There's a few things I wanted to run by her before she left incase she's gone for a while again."  
  
The silence was thick and Preston felt a small shiver run down his spine the way Hancock was staring into space. It took him a moment to realize that if the General was still sleeping then she probably hadn't told him anything that happened last night either.  
  
But as quickly as Preston had realized his mistake, Hancock relaxed and took another sip.  
  
"She's going today then, huh?"  
  
"I'm sorry, I should have-  
  
"Nah, Garvey, it's alright. Can't control her, I know that. Just ain't thrilled to let her go alone so soon."  
  
Their eyes met and he nodded in understanding. She was a good General but too careless at times. It had been one thing to dive recklessly into danger before the fall of the Institute since danger was around every corner but the Commonwealth was trying to find its balance and, regardless if it'd been what she wanted or not, she was a keyfigure in keeping the peace.  
  
"She'll be fine, I'm sure. I don't trust those guys either but she's as tough as they come."  
  
Hancock smiled, tracing his finger around the ridge of the can. She must've been hot metal before the war, hardening when the cold wasteland tried to swallow her.  
  
"Back before we travelled together, before I even knew her name, she came to me for a job. She didn't look like much then, didn't have that... fire, she has now. She just looked tired and desperate and I didn't want to send her to a potential death but she needed caps and I needed intel. Sent her to check out Pickmans, only wanted her to scope it out and estimate the danger so I could send my own men later."  
  
Preston frowned, remembering rumors he'd heard about the place.  
  
"Wasn't Pickman the..."  
  
"Psychotic Painter, yeah. I figured she'd be back a week later with a bunch of guesses, not having gone at all like most people I hired but she didn't even sleep on it. She walked right out the gates and came back a day later covered in blood and said the problem was dealt with."  
  
Hancock let out a huff of a laugh and chugged half the can before placing it on the table. They remained in a surprisingly comfortable silence, contemplating the feats that had been accomplished since she came out of the vault. It was hard to imagine she came from a time when the gardens were trimmed and people spent money on frivolities instead of food and shelter.  
  
"The General doesn't halfass anything." Preston finally said.  
  
"Not even her sleep."  
  
Hancock eyed the man in the armchair, noticed the wrinkles next to his eyes when he laughed at his joke. How the General had chosen the ol' battered ghoul instead of the kind-hearted ray of sunshine was beyond him. Maybe she'd just assumed a distance since they worked together so closely but the Mayor did his share too.  
  
The General was a one of a kind but so was her Second in Command. He'd heard what happened in Quincy, who hadn't?, and Preston had kept fighting his way to Concord despite the universe basically telling him to stop. He couldn't help but to envy him and his passion, wishing he'd had an ounce of that strength in his own youth. Things could've been a lot different if he'd fought harder for what he believed in.  
  
Preston blushed inadvertently when he noticed the ghoul was staring. The Mayors eyes saw more than most and he had nothing to hide but Hancock had a way of making people feel vulnerable and exposed.  
  
The tales of how Goodneighbor came to be were usually exaggerated and there were atleast 4 different versions but what seemed to be the general consensus was that Hancock had organized a coup and liberated the town from a guy that was a raider in a nicer suit. Perhaps if Preston hadn't idolized his superiors and trusted them blindly, instead keeping an eye on how they behaved and treated eachother, he might've been able to prevent the massacre.  
  
The sheets ruffled behind them and the General extended one of her legs in the air, letting cool air under the covers when she stretched. As if it broke a spell the two men shifted their attention to her and while Hancock lovingly gazed at his girlfriend slowly waking up, Preston immediately turned his head away to give her privacy.  
  
"Morning, sunshine."  
  
She grunted softly to confirm she'd heard him.  
  
"Good morning, General."  
  
Preston could only tell by the way the sheets shifted again and by the grin Hancock was now sporting that the General was most likely well awake.  
  
"Preston?" he heard behind him and before he could reply she continued. "For fuck's sake Hancock, why didn't you wake me?"  
  
"Hey, I tried. I can't say no to you."  
  
The General was diving through a drawer for a clean pair of underwear and some socks with blue thread stitching a hole together, tossing her dirty clothes in a basket by the door. Preston had a good mind to keep his eyes fixed on his shoes, studying the dark leather as if he didn't already know each stitch and crease like the back of his hand.  
  
When a pillow flew past his head it almost took his hat with it and it landed on Hancocks chest with a thud. Preston made the mistake of letting his eyes wander back to the ghoul and even in the fluorescent his eyes twinkled with love for the General.  
  
Somehow it made him feel oddly on edge. It was a kind of discomfort but not really, he'd seen them be affectionate many times before and this wasn't any different but whatever it was it made him shift for a better position in his chair.  
  
"I'm really sorry to have kept you waiting, i know you got better things to do."  
  
The General sat down next to Hancock on the couch whilst grabbing the can from the table and it was quickly emptied and returned with a hollow thud.  
  
"That's alright love, he just got some things to run by ya before ya leave."  
  
The last word was delivered with an accentuation and Preston saw her face scrunch up for a splitsecond before she collected herself. Hancock himself was smirking and Preston began to increasingly feel as if he didn't belong. It wasn't as if he frequently had meetings with the General in her quarters with her lover sitting by her side and usually she'd been at least awake when he entered.  
  
The situation suddenly became too personal to him, too intimate, and a small voice in the back of his head told him to get out before they tore the clothes off of eachother but the General relaxed with a frown and defused the tension with a soft _hmpf_.  
  
"I would've told you." she said.  
  
"I know." he replied and somehow that was that. The pair had debate in their blood and could argue for hours about the real purpose of a hot plate but just as often they'd feel no need. The General was put off by it as well, however, expecting more to come from him considering how rash her decision had been but Hancock only looked at her, smiling his sweet smile.  
  
Her eyes were narrow with suspicion but she decided to carry on, turning her gaze to Preston.  
  
"A few things?"  
  
"Oh, well I just need confirmation to some plans."  
  
He pulled out a small notebook and a pen from his inner coat pocket and began flipping through the pages. Some of the pages had so much text on them they looked as if they were ready to fall apart, hanging dangerously loose on the spiral that kept the pages together. The sound of paper flipping over almost sent the General back to her college days, when the students were furiously taking notes as a professor droned on and on about proper courtroom etiquette but Preston found the right page too soon and the memory was cut short.  
  
"The new robot at greygarden has been delivered but there seems to be an issue where it tries to escape. Sturges would like to extend his stay to figure it out."  
  
"Escape?" The General frowned. "Does it want to leave? We... I mean, if it wants to go, we should let it go."  
  
"It's not quite like that, General." The corners of Prestons mouth rose slightly in a suppressed smile. "He says he thinks there's a travel destination or a marker in its programming it's trying to get to. The chassis was salvaged from a junkyard and the hardware has been picked from several broken Mr Handys, it's possible it's just leftover programming."  
  
"Do you know where it's trying to go?"  
  
"Records indicate it might be from a robot from General Atomics Galleria. It had a destination to the northeast and we recently got a shipment of scraps from some scavengers who'd been in that area."  
  
She nodded in thought.  
  
"So it's not trying to Lassie us."  
  
Both men turned to look at her and Hancock almost asked what the hell she meant but she was quicker with her reply.  
  
"Alright, he can stay until it's resolved if that's what he wants. What else?"  
  
Preston neatly squibbled some text under what had to be the inquiry, writing as small as he could while still trying to write comprehensively. For a man who'd grown up with limited education he had decent penmanship and Hancock had often glanced at his text and felt jealous. He did his own fair share of handwriting but no matter how much he practiced, his handwriting always looked rushed and jerky.  
  
Perhaps it was a result of stiff limbs from being a ghoul or maybe he just didn't have the patience. The only thing he could write with a beautiful flow and elongated letters was his signature which he had perfected only for ironys sake.  
  
"Next..." he paused as he eyed his notes. "Starlight is reporting seeing ferals coming from the north again, possibly from Bedford Station. We have a team ready to go and clear it out."  
  
He briefly met her eyes to get her confirmation and she quickly nodded.  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
The sounds of paper scratching against paper sailed through the room and the General could feel herself relax. It was somehow soothing despite being a sound she'd frequently only heard while sleep deprived and stressed out of her mind in college.  
  
"Lastly, it's about..." He paused, looking for the right words to say in his mind. It wasn't written on his notebook since it was too sensitive to write down in a book anyone could technically stumble upon. "About what we should do incase of the Brotherhood..."  
  
"What do you mean? We don't know what they want yet."  
  
Hancock glanced over to her. Either she was being deliberately dumb or she genuinely didn't think the Brotherhood would tear her apart the second they saw her alone and vulnerable.  
  
"Incase the tincans decide to end the Minutemen prematurely." he clarified. Preston nodded in agreement.  
  
The General looked at Hancock first then back to Preston, gauging their expressions.  
  
"I know you guys are more familiar with the Brotherhood of Steel than I am but do you really think they'd abandon their political position just to kill me? If they just do things without the proper procedures they're nothing more than raiders and they know that, or at least they should know that."  
  
"Look, Sunshine, things now ain't the same as they used to be. Politics is... it's here, alright? But it ain't as important as it used to be. People back in your day hid behind their powerful positions but now it ain't necessary. There ain't nobody who can fight back against them but you and without you there is no us."  
  
"He's right. The Minutemen aren't an exception. We weren't chosen by the people to lead, we simply filled the void. Politics have little to do with things right now and if they end up killing you on the spot they gain tremendous advantage. I hope I don't offend you but... you're the best weapon we got."  
  
The General soaked up their words in silent thought, letting her eyes wander to the table. It was probably true to some extent, killing people seemed to come natural to her somehow but her leading was average at best and there were plenty of people who could've done a much better job than she had.  
  
What usually got her the upper hand in battles was that she charged in when a smart person would hide and calculate the next move, not careful planning and consideration that was generally considered decent attributes for a general.  
  
"So what then? What are you asking me?"  
  
"Do you have any plans for if we lose you?"  
  
She looked to Hancock but he had averted his eyes, staring at the can on the table. He didn't want to look at her, didn't want to feel his heart surge with love and fear at the thought of losing her. It was almost possible to see her bloodied body on the concrete ground with a Brotherhood goon standing over her, watching the light in her eyes go out. His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists unconsciously.  
  
"You won't lose me." she said.  
  
"We still need to plan just incase."  
  
"Preston, there's nothing to plan for. Even without me nothing's going to change. The Minutemen will still be the Minutemen, the settlements will still stand. I'm just a figurehead."  
  
"You're more than that." Hancock chimed in but he still refused to look at her.  
  
The General placed her face in her hands and tried to rub the tension out of her skin. She felt surprisingly good about going over and despite the wasteland changes in politics there was still a system that was used. If the Brotherhood simply killed her, word would get out and they would be known as the not-so-friendly neighborhood fascists.    
  
It was true that they had support based on their anti-synth policies and a lot of people didn't consider ghouls to be human enough to be protected but surely people weren't blind enough to think the Brotherhood was here to help the people and not just themselves.  
  
For as long as their ship had been floating by the airport she'd never heard them actively doing anything for anyone. Instead she'd heard reports of them chasing away scavengers from sites that apparently had goodies hidden in them and their arrogant demeanor had to be off-putting for everyone, regardless of their ideologies.  
  
"If the Brotherhood kills me... If they decide to shoot themselves in the foot, Preston becomes the General. I trust you with my life and I trust you with the world, I know you'd be a great leader."  
  
He felt his face flush again and he wanted to object but as she was finally giving him some backup orders he didn't want to interrupt.  
  
"It would obviously be a declaration of war and we'd have to act accordingly. It's both an advantage and a disadvantage that our troops are spread out in the commonwealth; hard for them to strike hard at one place but hard for us to mobilize enough power. In return, they're mostly gathered at one significant location. Not something we can just waltz up against but easy to flank."  
  
The General fell into silence, lost in thought until she came back to the moment. The two men were patiently waiting for her to track her train of thoughts. It was easy to get stuck on details and forget the bigger picture but she seemed to always have the battle drawn out infront of her.  
  
"The Institute was gathered in one place and it was how we defeated them..." she said softly.  
  
"You don't mean..." Preston began. The Institute had been destroyed with the use of a powerful explosive and while he understood the importance of retaliation he didn't enjoy the idea of a big blast. Surely there were innocent people even among the ranks of the Brotherhood, surely even a few might be swayed to join the Minutemen if given a choice. Or escape into freedom.  
  
The Institute had had a warning and a few scientists and free synths had taken their chance to live their own life but the Brotherhood couldn't be given the same benefit. A warning would only give them more time to mobilize. "You don't mean another explosion?"  
  
"What?" She looked at him in surprise. "Oh god no, that would be... too volatile, the Institute was underground and the explosion was controlled. To blow up the Brotherhoods base would result in a huge disaster area. Not to mention there's no way we can get deep enough to plant anything."  
  
They fell into silence once again but this time Preston didn't have the words to say it, or rather, didn't have the guts. They wouldn't have to sneak around their base to plant explosives, they already had long range heavy strikes that could do the job for them. The shame of what he was considering was weighing heavy in his mind and he felt great dissapointment for considering it.  
  
But if the Brotherhood killed her, if they truly were here to destroy the Commonwealth... He had to bring it up. It was for the best, right? It would be to protect their people and the Brotherhood were soldiers, they knew what they were in for. Right?  
  
"Well actually..." he started, fighting himself to say it. She knew about the artillery already and she just hadn't put two plus two together but on the other hand, maybe they could find another way where civilians weren't at risk. But he also had to consider the ramifications if the Brotherhood weren't stopped in time.  
  
"If we build artillery pieces at the surrounding settlements... We could attack from multiple locations at a safe distance and send in our troops when they're weakened."  
  
Both Hancock and the General stared at him with wide eyes. Neither of them suspected he'd propose the strategy that could destroy a lot of lives at once and by the sadness in his eyes they could tell neither had he.  
  
Preston had sworn his life to protect people and only resort to violence when necessary. It had hurt him to fight the Institute despite what they'd stood for as there had been civilians down there. Families. Every night he prayed to a God he wasn't even sure was there that they'd evacuated when they had the chance.  
  
"Alright." the General replied. "That sounds good. Which settlements do you have in mind? Is there any way we can build them without letting anyone know?"  
  
"Nordhagen Beach is the closest settlement we have to the airport but because it's so close it's not likely they won't notice. We already have artillery here at The Castle and Spectacle Island shouldn't be a problem if we're given your order. Bunker Hill is close but I doubt they'd want to be involved and Finch Farm is already in a tough spot between the Forge, the Gunner outpost and the supermutant hotspot."  
  
The Finch family was a lovely family but everytime the General was reminded of that settlement she felt her soul leave her body. No matter how she tried, no matter how thickly she spread her charm, they refused to move. They were smack down in the middle of three hostile groups and had to have more than twice the standard amount of guards just to survive.  
  
"Yeah, building there and surviving enough to fight the Brotherhood is close to impossible. What about County Crossing? It's close but not too close. Ferals like to nest nearby but it shouldn't be something we can't manage."  
  
Preston wrote down the names of the proposed settlements in his notebook on a fresh sheet of paper, but only the names. If he lost his book and it came into the hands of the wrong person there'd be no trace back to what they really planned.  
  
"Croup Manor should work too." the General mused. "It's about the same distance as Spectacle Island. What's the limit on the artillery?"  
  
"Both the island and the manor are stretching it but should manage to hit the target."  
  
"Alright, that's what? Four artillery pieces. Is that enough? Two to the north and two to the south. There's nothing to the east but ocean. If they escape they'll most likely take refuge in the ruins of Boston, it'll be difficult to fight there."  
  
"It'll be difficult for them. We know the streets and buildings. This is our home." Hancock said after a long silence. Sometimes it was hard to engage in their discussion, not only because he wasn't an official Minuteman but because he didn't quite have the skill for large scale planning. Goodneighbor in itself had been nothing but a quick revenge, sure they had prepared for months but nobody had considered what would come after. Only that shit had to change.  
  
"Alright." the General nodded. "It's a good plan we'll never have to use."  
  
Preston hoped she was right. Without her he'd have to assume command until another, more appropriate General, could be instated. He'd have to lead people through a great battle and his thoughts immediately returned to Quincy. That had been nothing compared to what could be and if he suffered such a failure once more he wasn't sure if he'd survive it.  
  
"Then we're set." she continued. "Current plan is as follows; I'll travel to Cambridge and try to enter the Brotherhoods base to find out what they want. Meanwhile, Preston will get a hold of the railroad and someone will hopefully go to Goodneighbor where Hancock will intercept them and find out where Deacon is."  
  
Hancock scrunched his face together.  
  
"You still ain't told me what you need him for."  
  
Preston looked at the pair sitting in front of him and studied their expressions. Hancock was curious and somewhat defensive. The curiousity was clear but the defensiveness was a surprise though he could kind of understand it. Deacon was quite the character and you never knew where you had him.  
  
The General in return looked tense and uncertain. Their conversation last night and the things she suggested were things Preston wouldn't soon forget and he could understand her reluctance to tell Hancock about it. Though it was still not a conversation she could ignore and the sooner she told him the better.  
  
"It's complicated." she said, unable to elaborate properly.  
  
"Yeah I figured that." he replied. He couldn't deny he felt hurt that she was keeping secrets from him. Of course she was entitled to her own privacy but they were a team.  
  
When her eyes darted away from his he felt the worry sink into his body as it had many times before, worrying that maybe she was finally fed up with him. Woman like that had no business settling for a ghoul. It had only been a matter of time before she figured that out.  
  
The General took a moment to gather her thoughts and pressed a warm palm to his thigh. She leaned in closer and he caught a whiff of her soap as she deeply met his eyes.  
  
"I will tell you. There's not a thing in this world I don't trust you with. But I don't know if my fears are real or not and I really need to make sure which it is first. Okay? Is that... I know I'm being a real dick right now but could you please just let me? Can you trust me with this?"  
  
He took a long look at her. Of course he trusted her. After what they've been through, how could he not? But it had to be something fairly extreme if she didn't want to share it and Hancock wasn't a man who liked not knowing what was going on.  
  
"Yeah. I'll trust you."  
  
She could see his apprenhension but there was no point in defending herself. He'd allowed her some space and she gratefully accepted it.  
  
"Then if that's all I should return to my post." Preston said. He rose from the chair and stuffed the notebook back in his pocket, patting it close to his heart. The General nodded as he left and Hancock gave him a brief courteous smile.  
  
Hancock and the General sat in silence for a moment until she placed her palm over his hand. Instinctively he twined his twined his fingers with hers, finding comfort in her presence but the thought of letting her go alone behind enemy lines still made his skin crawl. It wouldn't feel right until she was back home, safe in his arms, and half his worry was that she wouldn't be coming home.  
  
"It's going to be fine." she told him and he knew she meant it. But it wasn't a certainty. She didn't know the Brotherhood the way he did, hadn't heard the rumors that terrified everyone who wasn't a fleshed out human. She didn't know half the abhorrent things they had said and done in the name of humanity, just like the Institute.  
  
He remained silent but squeezed her hand gently. The General moved in closer and leaned in to kiss his cheek. The way her lips felt against his marred skin was interesting, each kiss felt different no matter where she kissed him.  
  
A few times after they'd gotten drunk together she'd started innocently enough with a quick peck on his cheek but soon she would become overcome with the need to kiss every ridge and bump on his skin. A warmth started in her chest and bloomed through her body when she remembered those tender moments.  
  
The way he'd smile and giggle under her like he wasn't the fearful Mayor of Goodneighbor who had stabbed a man who threatened her before he even knew her name. How his face would feel warmer and warmer under her lips until she swore she could see the color beam through. The feeling of floating through space and time when her lips eventually found his and he'd kiss back, moving against her with the same affection she never thought she'd feel again.  
  
She remembered the first time they'd fallen asleep next to eachother and how he'd insisted on either one of them facing away because his face was the last thing she ought to be seeing before dreaming. Instead she'd placed her face so close to his that he could count the freckles on her face and she could smell the berry mentats on his breath.  
  
Things had been easier somehow, when they were chasing after the bogeyman.  
  
"What are ya going to tell Shaun?"  
  
"I don't know." she said. "Same as always I guess. Going on a mission and I'll be back as soon as I can."  
  
"When are ya leaving?"  
  
"In a few hours. No point in drawing it out. I'll set up camp on a rooftop in Cambridge and make contact first thing in the morning."  
  
The General managed to suppress a wince when he turned his head to look at her with his big puppy eyes. She'd always loved dark eyes but there was something almost magical in his and somehow he had learned how to use it to his advantage to tug on her heartstrings.  
  
"I could still come with ya. Or Garvey. You ain't gotta do this alone."  
  
Hancock was begging her with his eyes. He hadn't known how much he wanted and needed someone like her until he met her and they had already survived one monster together. What were the odds of it happening a second time? He did his best to look as cute as possible.  
  
But the General managed to counter it by placing her head on his shoulder and resting against him gently. His charm was rendered useless against her hardheadedness and he allowed a sigh to first fill his lungs and then exhale his resignation. She had a point and he didn't want to admit it.  
  
"I'm going to go see how Shaun's doing. You coming?"  
  
"I'll see ya in a bit."  
  
The General stood up and took a breath to tell him again that it was going to be okay but he had no reason to just take her word for it. Hancock was a man who needed more than a secondhand gutfeeling to relax him. They'd all done what they could for the moment, all that was left was to do was to let the event unfold before them and pick up where they left off when she came back. Instead she let the silence return before she left to find her son. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well doing a chapter once a week looks like it's a little too ambitious for me. the length of the chapters are usually the size of a fic for me, im really surprised how willing my brain is to write this. ill just have to post when i feel like it's finished, sorry for the inconsistency. (it takes longer right now cause i kinda hate what i write. i can do better than this and i will improve.)


	6. Chapter 6

Once she was outside the fresh air hit her like a brick and she made a mental note to install some kind of ventilation in her quarters. Shaun was in the workshop filtering through a pile of broken kitchen appliances but as soon as he heard her footsteps enter the small shack he dropped it with a clank and ran towards her.   
  
The General kneeled on the ground and caught him in her arms, hugging him so tightly she almost worried she might crush him. It wasn't until he was patting her shoulders that she let go and he stumbled backwards with a warm smile.   
  
"Morning mom!"  
  
"Morning honey. What've you got over there?"  
  
They walked over to the crate where he'd been poking around and he quickly retrieved an old hot plate. It was surprisingly not as rusty as some of the other items in the pile and she could imagine seeing it at a yardsale 200 years ago. She wouldn't have bought it and if Nate had even touched it she would've slapped it out of his hands but in the wasteland it was a pretty prime example of electronics.   
  
"A hot plate, huh? What are your plans for it?"  
  
He turned it in his hands, inspecting it as if there was a secret he could unravel and knowing his extraordinary skills with tinkering it probably wasn't far from the truth. She liked to think she had a small part in teaching him a few tricks but most of it had probably been things he'd overheard in the Institute. Maybe he had even snuck around to play with things too advanced for any child to play with.   
  
"I was thinking about taking the heating coil and applying it to a laser rifle. I think I can get it to boost the damage somehow."  
  
She only nodded along, imagining picking it apart herself; removing the casing and carefully distmantling each part and placing it in its respective storagebox then the words soaked through. Applying it to a laser rifle? Boost the damage?  
  
"Hold on, you're planning what?"  
  
"Sturges told me about this cool trick where you twist the coil and-"  
  
"No. What? No. That's... It's too dangerous, Shaun. Have you been playing with guns?"  
  
His eyes went everywhere but her direction and he let his arms fall to his sides. She could see both shame and anger in his posture but the idea of her baby boy playing with guns, _with weapons_ , made her blind to his feelings.  
  
"I thought I told you you were too young. Shaun. Look at me. You are too young to be touching that stuff, it's way too dangerous."  
  
He scrunched his face together and still refused to look at her until she bent down to his level and placed her hands on his shoulders.   
  
"Shaun..."   
  
At least he got his stubbornness from her and she could easily outmatch him any time. The General continued boring her eyes into his until he finally relented and looked at her.  
  
"I'm always careful when I do it. I just want to help out."  
  
Her grip on his shoulder softened.  
  
"But you did something I told you not to do. You didn't ask for permission."  
  
"Well when am I supposed to ask you? You're never here!"  
  
Shaun tossed the hotplate on the counter and ran out the door before she could stop him. She wasn't ready for this. Before the vault she had still been learning how to take care of a baby, she had no idea how to take care of a child.   
  
And he was right. She spent more time away on missions than she did taking care of her son and while she had responsibilities as the General, she had responsibilities as a mother too.   
  
But fuck, she hadn't even really expected any of it. Becoming a leader of free people hadn't been on her agenda and once she met Father she had begun to accept her loss. When they attacked the Institute she hadn't imagined in her wildest dreams that Shaun would be waiting for her and she especially hadn't expected him to recognize her and call her mom.   
  
She wasn't even supposed to be alive anymore. The General rubbed her face with tired hands, feeling ache in her bones that hadn't been there a moment ago. There was always some shit happening and she had to take care of it. Both Hancock and Shaun were upset that she was leaving but if she didn't do it, it just wouldn't get done right.  
  
And so what if the Brotherhood killed her? Worse things could happen if she didn't take that chance. She couldn't sacrifice the safety of the Commonwealth because her boyfriend and son thought she worked too much. What was she supposed to do?   
  
That was probably another discussion that needed to be had but before anything she had to find Shaun and apologize. Regardless of her motives she had still hurt him and he hadn't been wrong.   
  
Unfortunately and ironically she had no idea where he could've gone but Preston, god bless him, had noticed the ruckus in the background and simply pointed her to the south gate before he continued with his radio. In the bright sunlight the place didn't look as menacing as it had the night before and as the place was empty she was worried he might've actually run into the ruins just to get away from her.  
  
But in the distance she noticed the elevated shack next to the sunken boat and of course he'd go there. It was outside the Castles protective walls but any threat could be spotted a mile away from the watchtowers and it wasn't so far away he wouldn't be able to run back if he had to.   
  
He was sitting on the floor with his knees to his chest and as soon as he spotted her coming up the stairs she worried he'd make another run for it. But he remained at his post and looked at her with his sad eyes. It didn't look like he had been crying but it didn't look like it was far off either.   
  
Neither one said a word when she sat down next to him with her legs crossed and they allowed a moment to simply pass. The wind whined past their heads and through the spaces between the planks but they were sheltered from the worst. They were out in the open with nothing stopping the oceanbreeze from flowing as it willed which was soothing in a way. Nothing held it back and it was free to roam.   
  
The General ransacked her head looking for the words to say but there was nothing that could properly convey her feelings unless they sat there for a week. And he surely had things on his mind as well.  
  
"I'm sorry." she mumbled. "You're right. I don't spend enough time here and not enough time with you. I'll have to change that."  
  
They shared another moment of silence as her apology sunk into him.  
  
"But you're leaving again, aren't you?"  
  
"Yes. I have to... But when I come back-"  
  
"If you come back."  
  
She turned her head so fast she could've broken her neck. Jeez, it was like the problems wouldn't stop coming.   
  
"Shaun, I will... I will always come back to you. _Always_. There's nothing in the whole world that can keep me away from you again."  
  
She turned around, shuffling her legs on the floor until she was on her knees facing him. He refused to look at her again and this time she could see small tears form at his eyes. How could she not have noticed the strain she put on him? It was so obvious in hindsight.  
  
"Honey..."  
  
The General leaned in and pressed him close to her chest with a protective arm around his shoulder and a palm holding his head. He began to shake as his tears grew bolder and he clutched his arms around her, anchoring himself to her.   
  
"I'm so sorry. I should've noticed this, I'm so sorry." she spoke gently with her mouth pressed against his head. Her little boy had been hurting all along and she hadn't even noticed. The workload of being the General had been a lot but god, what kind of mother had she been? She should've quit the position as soon as she had him back and still she had chosen work over her family.   
  
Shaun didn't reply but continued to sob into her shirt while she softly stroked her palm over his back, slowly rocking back and forth the way her own mother had comforted her when she was a child.  
  
After a few minutes his tears had subsided and he was breathing steadily again. The silence was almost too good to interrupt, but she had to tell him where she was going and why. Or some truth of it.  
  
"I have to go talk to some people. It's nothing dangerous and it wont take long but I really need to see them."  
  
"Who?" he asked her as he pulled away from her. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot and she wiped her thumb across his cheeks to get rid of any remaining tears on his face.   
  
"Those people by the big airship. I'm just going to see if they need any help."  
  
Shaun wiped his nose with the sleeves of his coat.   
  
"Can't Uncle Preston go? Or Miss Shaw? They're minutemen too."  
  
"It's not that simple, I'm afraid."  
  
It became quiet again. The sound of water lapping against the hull of the boat was soothing and it was relaxing after the sudden emotional outburst. It was as if she could suddenly breathe again, not knowing she'd held her breath.   
  
"When I come back, how about we head to Sanctuary for a bit? See how Codsworth and Dogmeat is doing?"   
  
It was an empty promise and as soon as the words were out of her mouth she regretted it. But she owed him time as well. Most likely the Brotherhood wouldn't tell her anything substantial and most likely they had nothing to do with the attack. Whatever reason they had for staying in the Commonwealth wouldn't be worth causing trouble with the only other not-batshit-evil faction for and they were too arrogant to ask for help.   
  
"You mean it?"  
  
She smiled and kissed his forehead.   
  
"Of course. We could stop by in Diamond City too and say hi to Aunt Piper, Nat and Grandpa Nick."  
  
He offered a small smile in reconciliation. It seemed as if the worst was over and he was calm again but the calm could only last so long. It would be so much nicer if she could just ignore what had sparked the argument but even as much of a lousy mother she'd been she couldn't ignore what he did when she was away.  
  
"About the hotplate..."  
  
"I just want to help."  
  
"Shaun-"  
  
"I'm always careful! I know how to do it, Sturges showed me how!"  
  
"That's not the point. It's dangerous. You could get hurt."  
  
"You get hurt all the time when you're away!"  
  
"That's different."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Beca-... Because I'm an adult, Shaun! I have experience and training and you're a child. I know it sucks but you're going to get older and you'll learn along the way but right now-"  
  
"Right now I'm just useless."  
  
"Shaun!"  
  
The argument was long overdue and it was her own fault for letting it go this far. How long had he been carrying this inside him? For how long had he been angry and frustrated without being able to let some of it go?   
  
"I always have to listen to Uncle Preston talk about making a camp out of scraps but I don't even get to go outside."   
  
She didn't even know if he was getting any older but what was she supposed to do? He was a child for god's sake, kids didn't play with guns or make damage modifiers out of hotplates. But then what if he was a child indefinitely?   
  
"You're not useless. You're so young and wonderful and I'm just worried something might happen."  
  
"But I'm really good at it!"  
  
"Things can still happen. Mistakes can happen."  
  
"Then what am I supposed to do? I want to help but no one lets me. Everyone is afraid of me 'cause I'm the Generals son."  
  
No one except a few close friends knew the truth about Shaun. As far as the Commonwealth was concerned she'd gotten her baby back a few years older than expected but if people were wary of him it was a cause for investigation. Another good reason to contact Deacon.   
  
Maybe she was looking at it the wrong way. When she was around his age she'd been playing with toys and not worrying about life but it wasn't like that anymore. And if her fears were true, that he couldn't age, then for how long had he been a child? Maturity didn't come to you like a birthday gift, it was granted by life molding you into an adult. Time and age weren't necessarily the same thing.   
  
"You know... I could have a team of Minutemen follow you around all day, making sure you stay out of trouble."  
  
"Mom!"   
  
Shauns eyes were so wide they looked ready to pop out of his sockets and his mouth was open in disbelief.   
  
"I'm not going to. But if you want to keep... risking your limbs," she said with a stern look, "then there has to at least be an adult present. I am dead serious. If I find out you've been messing around with weapons again without an adult actively watching you incase something goes wrong, you're in a world of trouble."  
  
He took a moment to think about her decree, she could see his mind working behind his eyes.   
  
"You'll let me make modifiers?"  
  
"I'll let you study electronics and experiment with the most extreme caution and only when there is an informed and experienced adult watching every single step of the way. I need to see it for myself as well."  
  
It was as far as she was willing to go although it felt as if she'd given in far too easily at the same time. She still strongly felt it was wrong but the world was too strained at that moment in time and she needed to bide her time until she could sort everything out. If it meant she had to allow him to mess with things that were dangerous even for her own capable hands, for now at least it was a tangible solution.   
  
She'd been a kid too, once. Her parents had forbidden her to go past the traintracks in her small childhood town and she'd gone every day, even just a few steps past, just to spite them. Just because she could. At least this way she'd have some small control over it.   
  
He seemed to take the deal, however, visibly relaxing his shoulders.   
  
"When are you leaving?" he asked her.   
  
"I'll be leaving in a few hours. Think you'll have time to show me how it's done before then?"  
  
"Sure! It's kinda easy." he said. When he noticed her arched eyebrow he quickly added; "I think, anyway. Sturges showed me and it only took a little while."   
  
How precious it was for a child to change so easily. Last week the General had dropped a piece of toast on the ground and spent the day annoyed at everyone and everything and here Shaun was, happy as a bird despite being close to tears just a moment ago.   
  
He practically jumped to his feet and quickly began pulling her back towards the Castle though it took her a moment longer to rise back up. The cold hard floor was less kind to her limbs than it was to his but he was also far more excited than she was. 

 

* * *

  
She allowed herself a few hours with her son, time she should've spent with him a long time ago, before she snuck back into her quarters to pack the essentials. Clean underwear was generally considered a luxury for the wasteland citizens but a necessity to the General who just couldn't seem to get comfortable with the idea.   
  
Other than extra ammo, some water and food and the underwear wrapped in two bags to at least hinder the dirt pushing through, there wasn't much else to bring. She eyed a sleeping bag but decided against it as there was no need to even consider getting comfortable if she were to spend the night alone in the wasteland.   
  
If there was an attack on her life during the night it was better to sleep uncomfortably and wake up quickly and her coat was warm enough to keep her from freezing to death during the night. It served as a get-out-of-jail-freecard as well. People knew who it belonged to and what she'd done to earn it as it'd been proven time and time again; any raider gang that tried to fight her got wiped out, gunner outposts were burnt down and there were a lot fewer wasteland nasties since she'd gone around.  
  
She picked out a book from her collection, _Jane Eyre_ , and placed it in her pack as well. The book would help pass the time once she set up camp for the night, unless genius struck her and she could formulate a proper gameplan for the Brotherhood.   
  
She'd had limited exposure to the bunch and only knew of them in through rumors though she didn't like what she'd heard. It would've been safer to act out a manuscript but hey, what could she say? She could think all the thoughts in the world and she still wouldn't know what to say or do until she talked with that Elder guy. The sooner that happened the better.  
  
She had a few hours of daylight left and she'd probably end up looking for shelter in the dark. Aside from ferals there wasn't much action going on in Cambridge and with the Brotherhood now stationed there with proper perimeters and not-wounded soldiers there was a low risk of encountering anything.  
  
Preston and Hancock were both waiting by the west gates, talking lowly before Hancock nodded at the General approaching. They must've been talking about her since Preston immediately stopped talking, straightened his back and turned towards her while Hancock nudged himself off the junkfence he'd been leaning on.   
  
"Everything okay?" she asked when she approached them.  
  
"Everything's good, General. Your orders have been delivered and a team is ready to head out to Starlight first thing in the morning. Sturges hasn't had a breakthrough with the programming yet but knowing him it wont be long. And lastly, the selected settlements have been notified about collecting scrap towards improving our defenses."  
  
The General smiled and blinked in a nod.   
  
"That'll be all then. You can take the rest of the day off."  
  
"What about-"  
  
"They're not children. The minutemen can manage without constant guidance."  
  
"But I-"   
  
"You haven't had a proper break for several weeks. And last time it was because you got shot. Working too much works against you, too. You'll have the rest of the day off, minimum, and that's my final order."  
  
Preston looked nervous and uncertain. The poor man probably didn't spend enough time for himself to know what he'd do alone.   
  
"Yes, General. Roger that." He gave her a quick nod. "Have a safe trip."  
  
She allowed him to excuse himself without a goodbye hug, thinking he might feel too embarrassed. It wasn't a secret they were good friends, he'd been what saved her ass several times over the first month she spent in the post-war wasteland, but she had a knack of acting like a mother to people who weren't her children, which wasn't always appriciated.  
  
As soon as Preston had dissapeared back into the courtyard, Hancock approached her and placed his hands on her hips. His cold hands snuck in under her coat and up her back, pressing her close. She subconsciously sighed happily into his embrace, relaxing muscles she didn't know she was straining as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders to complete the hug.  
  
Even in the cool breeze she could faintly smell stale cigarettes on his coat. Out of all his habits smoking was the one she hated the most as the smell would permeate everything and it was hard to wash out, but the smell was so _him_ it made her homesick when they spent time apart.   
  
Hancock in return did his best to catch any wafts of soap from her hair, ignoring the familiar abraxo from her clothing. Before they'd officially proclaimed their affection he had patted out her sleeping bag extra hard during their travels, trying to soak her in through his senses, and ever since they begun sharing a bed he spent half the time hugging her pillow when she was away.  
  
His younger self would've laughed at how he behaved, heckling him for being so tied down by another person, but his younger self hadn't met a person like her.   
  
"What good are my roguish good looks and devilish charm if I can't convince ya to stay?"  
  
The General scoffed and pressed her forehead against his, looking into his halflidded eyes.   
  
"What do you think I'm coming back for?"  
  
He replied by kissing her briefly, a quick chaste kiss rather than a passionate one that he really wanted to lay down on her. Though he feared that as soon as he started he wouldn't be able to let go and she had places to be.  
  
"I could still come with ya."  
  
"Babe..."  
  
"I know, I know. It's just... they ain't anythin' we've gone up against before. There are things even you can't control."  
  
"Bullshit."  
  
It was a sweet moment but the fear forced itself into the feeling and while it made his heart flutter it also made his gut turn. It was too unpredictable. If the attack had been staged or not, whatever kept them in the 'wealth, the thing she had told Preston about but didn't tell him... There was too much happening and too much of it was out of his hands.   
  
All because those Brotherhood bastards couldn't stay out of the 'wealths business. Had to put their sticky hands where they didn't belong.   
  
They remained silent for a few minutes, enjoying the quiet and closeness of eachother, charging it up in their bones so that they could survive the seperation more easily. There was so much he wanted to say but no words that were appropriate so he bit his tongue. There'd be another day, there had to be. He couldn't lose her this time either.   
  
"I'll meet ya in Goodneighbor on your way back?"  
  
"Yeah. It'll only be a few days, like three or four, tops. How long do you think it'll be before you can track down Deacon?"  
  
"Shit," he scoffed, "I'd be surprised if he ain't already there, waitin'. Maybe he'll even be on the airship, polishing a wrench or somethin'."  
  
The General burst into a hearty laugh.  
  
"Polishing a wrench? I'm not sure if that's what they do."  
  
"Ya think so? Ya don't think everythin' has to be spick-and-span up to regulations? I bet there's someone with a mop ready to scrub the floor as soon as a patrol comes home and drags in the dirt. Gotta be pretty if ya ain't got much else goin' for ya."  
  
She trailed her fingers along his jaw before they ended their embrace. Time was of the essence and it wouldn't get any easier to leave.   
  
"Are you leaving tomorrow?" she asked him.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Could you look after Preston tonight? I'm worried about him, he's working too much. Even more than before, it's like he doesn't turn off."  
  
"Huh. When it rains it pours. Yeah, I got his back. Don't sweat it, sunshine."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
They kissed a final time before she bent down the pick up her backpack.  
  
"I'll see you soon." she said.  
  
"Not soon enough." he replied, watching her leave through the crooked gate.   
  
He watched her until she dissapeared around a corner and while he'd hoped she'd take a look back at him, he was grateful she hadn't. There would've been nothing stopping him from running towards her to sling her over his shoulder and carry her back to safety.  
  
The General turned on the radio on her pipboy, hoping the tunes would give her some company on her walk across Broken Boston but kept it on low volume as to not attract unwanted attention. She still wasn't sure how she'd approach the Brotherhood outpost but at least she had a few hours to think about it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont know why i made her go to cambridge when going to the airport wouldve been faster and smarter but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ lets just go with it. and its kinda hard somehow to write shaun into her life, im 100% unfamiliar with children and the game doesnt exactly give him a lot of character development or personality. especially since i also prefer to play as a badass general who dgaf if they die or not, as long as they look cool and get results. 
> 
> Posting this a little prematurely, i'm not happy with it but i have no idea how to write it any better. and tbh i could write a masterpiece and still hate it, at least this way the ball keeps rolling. im sorry for letting you down, whoever reads this.   
> and i hope you had a nice holiday!


	7. Chapter 7

Preston was standing in the commonroom looking lost. It had been so long since he had to think only of himself that it was sort of terrifying. Hell, he wasn't even really sure who he was anymore. He'd grown a lot since Quincy, since the General, but what had he grown into?  
  
There were books he could read, books the General herself had warmly recommended, but he wasn't the greatest reader and he never quite relaxed enough to get into a story. Maybe he could nab a comic from one of the recruits but those were quickly read and it wasn't like there were new comics being made. He had already read most, if not all, of them several times over already.  
  
He thought that perhaps he could disguise a patrol as a simple afternoon walk but the General had given him an order and it was his duty to oblige. Besides, he understood what she meant. He couldn't remember the last time he had genuinely relaxed or tried to do something not Minutemen-related but it was hard since that was all he wanted to do.  
  
There was still a whole world out there to save. There were still people in danger and places to fix and now, with the help from the General, he finally had the means to do something about it. He had waited his whole life to make a difference in the Commonwealth, to finally allow it to heal from the Great War, how could he possibly slow down now?  
  
Luckily he didn't have too much time alone before Hancock joined him, bringing in a cloud of smoke from the cigarette he was holding. He took a long final drag before he snuffed out the embers with his index finger and thumb and placed the stump back in a pack in his inner coatpocket.   
  
"Got big plans for tonight?" he asked him.   
  
Preston stared blankly for a few seconds before he caught himself.  
  
"I... suppose I'll.... I don't know. I don't really know how to... be alone? Maybe I'll call it an early night."  
  
Hancock sauntered over. He was the kind of person who could smile convincingly when angry beyond belief and despite seeing how passionate the Mayor was about saving people and helping where he could, it was still intimidating when he approached Preston leisurely. They were more or less friends, colleagues above anything, but the way Hancock seemed to have a gleam in his eyes still made Preston stand on edge.  
  
"Now would ya waste your first day off in ages on turning in early? Why don't we get somethin' to drink and get to know eachother better? Only fair I know who my girlfriend trusts more than me."  
  
Preston laughed a huff of air, feeling the tension whiplash through his limbs. It was undeniable that the General placed trust in him but he was small fish compared to the people she associated with. But a nice cool beer didn't sound that bad and thanks to Sturges mechanical ingenuity and the Generals firm and insistent orders, there was a modest amount of refrigerated items in the kitchen. With any luck there'd be a beer or two in there.  
  
"I'm afraid there's not much to know about me that you don't already know but I won't say no to a beer."  
  
Hancock smiled, patted his back in a friendly manner and firmly, somehow not at all pushy, steered them to the kitchen.  
  
"Attaboy."  
  
The kitchen was empty save from a group of recruits eating some kind of stew in silence. They were no doubt tired from the arduous training and if memory served Hancock right they'd just returned from Spectacle Island where they'd practiced battlefield maneuvers.   
  
Preston and Ronnie Shaw had both given pointers on different situations they had found themselves in at some point in their Minutemen career. Ranging from getting flanked inside a building that had poor defenses to taking cover in an open field, they both had stories that made you wonder how the hell they ever managed to fall asleep at night.   
  
Maybe Hancock had become sheltered even in a town like Goodneighbor but if anything he knew that there were some miserable bastards out there deliberately trying to snuff out the good in the world. Thankfully the General was rightfully paranoid for the safety of her recruits and made damn sure everyone knew how to survive down to a T.   
  
As Preston rummaged through the fridge, locating the bottles in the bottom corner behind some Nuka-Colas and a mysterious purple jar of what he hoped was pickled mutfruit, Hancock snuck a mentat into his mouth. It was one thing to kick back with people in Goodneighbor and even the General, it was another entirely to try and get Preston to loosen up enough for his time off to actually matter.  
  
With the bottles in hand Preston eyed one of the empty tables but Hancock was quick to pull him out towards the courtyard. Granted the Castle was limited in places to socialize but Hancock'd be damned if he had to chill out in the goddamn kitchen.   
  
Instead he lead the other man through the south gates and to the left, walking around the Castle until the Commonwealth was barely in their peripheral vision. The sun was close to set which meant it wasn't too hot or too cold and the sand proved to be a great bottleholder if you screwed it in properly.   
  
Preston had a worried crease in his forehead and Hancock had to remind himself that while the General didn't give a damn what you looked like, some people weren't all that comfortable around ghouls. Not that Preston had ever been anything less than a gentleman around him but you couldn't blame the fella for being cautious around someone who looked like he'd been dead for a month.   
  
Though he sat down next to Hancock without apprehension, adjusting his behind until the sand had created a perfectly comfortable dent for him to rest in. In the distance they could both barely see Spectacle Island and come night it would be quite the Spectacle indeed. There was a scheduled night-time shooting practice with the muskets and even if it was too far away for them to see anything discernible, the bright red of the lasers would absolutely give them something to look at.  
  
But before then they had a few hours to kill. Preston was still cautious while Hancock did his best to appear relaxed despite being on edge himself. All they had to do was relax, it was all she'd asked of them. And yet Preston looked as if Hancock was about to go feral and devour him, despite never implying it was a fear of his during all the time they've known eachother and Hancock himself couldn't quite relax because he was technically on a mission.  
  
He was about to bite the bullet and pick a random topic to get away from the awkward silence but Preston was quicker.  
  
"I can't tell you what we talked about. I know she trusts you and I'm sure she'll tell you what it was about but I can't... fail her confidence."  
  
Preston shifted uncomfortably despite the sand molding itself after him while Hancock stared in surprise.  
  
"You thought I was gonna chew you out about that?" he laughed. "Nah, man. That's cool. Wouldn't have it any other way. Hell, I'm counting on you two keeping things from me. I ain't gotta know everything."  
  
"Oh... Good. I'm glad to hear that." Preston replied before they resigned to another small silence.  
  
The waves lapping at the shore was soothing and the occasional chatter carried through the wind from the courtyard. It was a serene moment though it would be a panicattack waiting to happen if he'd been sitting there alone. He was happy Hancock had accompanied him but Preston was far from entertaining company, so what was he there for?  
  
"So if you aren't here to quiz me about... that... what can I do you for?"  
  
"I ain't got an ulterior motive for hanging out with ya, just figured you might want some company. Unless you'd rather be alone...?"  
  
"No! I mean, it's okay. I don't mind."  
  
Hancock twisted the cap off of his beer and took a swig. The General had said that the refrigerator didn't get things quite as cold as it had before the war but it wasn't like refrigerators were known to stand the test of time. Still, to Hancock it was cold enough and it felt chilling as it passed through his throat.   
  
Preston slowly followed suit, twisting the cap off and taking a small sip.   
  
"Well as long as we're gettin' mushy..." Hancock began, pausing to find the words to say. Preston looked over and took a deeper swig of his beer before squshing it back into the sand like Hancock had.   
  
"I don't exactly know how to say this... and hell, I should've said something a long time ago. I'm real sorry about what happened in Quincy. I ain't been the biggest fan of the Minutemen and I've had my reasons but... it takes somethin' special to go through somethin' like that and still be fightin'. That's a strength I ain't ever seen before. Well, 'cept for maybe in the General."  
  
Preston was stunned. Sure, people often expressed regret and condolences about Qunicy but people just as often used it as an argument against rebuilding the faction. But he hadn't quite expected Hancock to mention it. He'd been critical of the faction before Quincy, though never patronizing, and even in the beginning after the General became, well, the General, he had little to no faith in them.   
  
Perhaps when he fell inlove with the General he found love for the Minutemen as well.   
  
"I appriciate you saying that."   
  
"And, uh... Thank you for saving her. Back in Concord. After what you'd been through ya could've just as easily decided to pack your bags and leave but ya kept going. Took care of her when she didn't know what was what."  
  
"You would've done the same." Preston said softly. He was beginning to blush, feeling overwhelmed at the topic.  
  
"I'd like to think so. But if I'd been the one to save her... The Minutemen wouldn't've been brought back to life, the Institute would still be around and there's no way the Brotherhood wouldn't've tried to wipe all ghouls and suspected synths of the soil. We all live in a better world now, thanks to you."  
  
Preston could do nothing but stare at his hands folded in his lap, furiously fighting the heat that was spreading across his face. He was just doing his part, it wasn't anything special. Anyone in his position would've... No. Truth be told he knew that he could've just as well decided to let the Minutemen die that day. A part of him had even wanted to.   
  
But when the General had shown up dressed in nothing but a vaultsuit and a 10mm with Dogmeat by her side and joined the fight instead of protecting herself, as she should've, he knew that the Minutemen would live if not in name then in spirit through people like her.  
  
Though there were still days, too many for him to be comfortable with, where he wondered when the next downfall would come. Would it happen with the General in charge? Was it possible for her to fail as he had? Or would the end come again after her passing, when she was no longer around to keep them together?   
  
"Thank you. It's very kind of you to say that."  
  
Hancock rested his arms on his knees, the bottle loosely hanging from one of his hands. Despite the rather pathetic cooling system in the fridge the bottle had still developed condensation and a drop slid across the glass until it blended under his thumb. Preston still seemed to be holding himself back.  
  
"Somethin' on ya mind?"  
  
There was an immediate reaction, twice, as Preston both desperately wanted to share his fears but wanted no one to worry or think he was losing faith in his work. The Minutemen had become his life and he was pleased with that but as he'd put so much of himself into the faction he was also extremely dependant on it. If something like Quincy ever happened again... there'd be no coming back for him.  
  
"I, uh... It's nothing really, just... y'know. Stuff. What's the wasteland without worry, right?"  
  
Hancock scoffed at the sentiment.  
  
"Ain't that the truth. But come on, what's really weighin' on ya?"  
  
The General trusted Hancock with both her body and soul, surely Preston could at least do half of that? It wasn't as if Hancock had a reputation of being a hardass, quite the opposite, and if anything he'd be the best one to go to.   
  
Not just because he was the Mayor Feel-Good but because he was enough in the know to understand what Preston was talking about but not so invested in the internal machinery of the Minutemen that he could compromise anything.   
  
But would he understand? Quincy had been a thriving town until the gunners came. There had been plenty of traders and families, almost able to rival Diamond City in prosperity, but only 20 had made it out to Jamaica Plain and only five made it to Concord. The whole town of Quincy reduced to five survivors.   
  
Preston had to fight the tears. If he'd only done something different there could've been six survivors. Or seven. Or maybe, hell, maybe he could've saved a dozen more if he'd only fought harder, smarter. He'd done his best, yeah, but there was still blood on his hands.   
  
Hancock had taken the silence as an answer. They were completely different people and yet they were so similar. The General had said it herself at one point back when they were travelling as friends, as acquaintances, when Hancock had first formally met Garvey.   
  
_"Preston wants the same thing you do but he follows order too much. Has to be clean for him. You're a hell of a guy, Hancock, but you leave a trail behind you."_  
  
He had always wondered why she chose to travel with his ugly mug when Preston had been so much better, so much kinder, though it wasn't until much later he realized it was because she was sweet on him.   
  
"What happened back then... that ain't on you. You ain't responsible for other people's actions."  
  
Preston felt the tears burn at his eyes and he sniffed louder than he wanted to, quickly clearing his throat to mask the sound.  
  
"There were whole families there. The Long's lost their son. They survived but they've changed so much. They lost so much and if I'd just-"  
  
"Stop right there. Sometimes bad things happen and you can't do anythin' about it. It ain't your fault. What you've done after that, the world you've helped build now... I'd say that more than makes up for it."  
  
"Doesn't bring people back to life."  
  
"No. It doesn't." Hancock took another gulp of his beer as he remembered the night the drifter was murdered infront of him. "But what you do from here on out counts too. Aslong as you keep fightin', you doin' good."  
  
There was truth in it though Prestons guilt wouldn't hear of it. The General had spent countless conversations trying to persuade him that he had done more than most would've, he'd done better than anyone else could've and he'd kept fighting afterwards when all he wanted to do was stop. It did matter but at the same time it didn't.   
  
"That means a lot coming from you."   
  
Hancock gave him a toothy grin as if to reply " _haha I know right_ ", but Preston was relentless and pressed on. Wasn't like they regularly had heart-to-hearts and he figured he better make this one count.    
  
"I mean that." he said a little softer. "I only know the rumors about how Goodneighbor came to be but I keep thinking; if I'd just have an ounce of your bravery things would've turned out better."  
  
It caught him midswig and he almost choked on the beer, making him cough harshly. Preston patted his back to help his lungs expel the liquid and Hancock did his best to cough it up. He allowed a moment to pass to get his breath back to normal before he replied.  
  
"I don't know what you heard but it ain't like that. I should've done somethin' about it sooner. Could've, but didn't 'cause it... wasn't me then. Guess I had to grow up first."  
  
"And you did."  
  
"At the expense of others."  
  
It felt unfamiliar, as if they were treading unexplored territory. Hancock was showing a different side of himself, a different him that wasn't the partyghoul or the Generals lover but a man who had suffered greatly and survived. Just like Preston himself. He could feel a profound respect grow for the other man, a weird sense of kinship he ordinarily never felt.   
  
Hancock in turn realized that Prestons unability to let go of work wasn't him being anal about getting things done right, like the General, but him being terrified of letting his guard down for another disaster to come through. He could respect that, admire even. His kindness wasn't naivety either, it was, surprisingly, strength.   
  
"Sometimes you gotta let the bad things go before they drown ya." Hancock said, his eyes set on the horizon without really looking.   
  
Maybe it was too heavy of a conversation to have on his day off but it seemed as if Preston needed to vent somehow and Hancock was happy to oblige. The General was trustworthy and cared deeply for her Second in Command but she wasn't that great with emotional support and there were things you just couldn't tell your boss no matter how friendly you were with them.  
  
"You don't think it's wise to remember and learn from your mistakes?"  
  
"Well sure. But it's one thing to remember and another to let it control us. I ain't sayin' you gotta forget about it but you're a different man now. The shit that went down in Quincy... it ain't gonna happen again. You ain't gonna let it, right?"  
  
Preston looked at the ghoul. He wasn't the best at reading people and Hancocks black eyes didn't exactly spell things out but he sounded sincere and he had no reason to coddle him. When the General tried to comfort him she always turned into a supermom which, in all honesty, _was_ comforting but just not what he needed.  
  
"But what if it's not up to us?" Preston asked. Hancock paused for a moment and frowned.   
  
"What d'ya mean?"  
  
"What if the Brotherhood really has it in for us? You think we can beat them?"  
  
"Hey now..."  
  
"You said it yourself before she left. The Minutemen have grown a lot and so have I but we're not soldiers. They can crush us and we... I mean, I'd fight to the death but that's what it would be; a fight to the death. And without the General leading us it wouldn't even be a battle."  
  
Hancock sighed softly and turned the bottle in his hands.   
  
"I got a bit out of hand earlier. I'm sorry 'bout that."  
  
"You weren't wrong."  
  
"Don't mean I was right either."  
  
"But you do believe they need to be dealt with?"  
  
"I... Garvey, look. I got my reasons for hatin' them and when she said she was gonna just waltz over like nothin' it got me scared. It ain't exactly a secret she's shacking up with a ghoul. But... It ain't like they got their heads completely up their ass. They got their nose out to breathe n'shit."  
  
Preston snorted at the unexpected but not surprising comment and hid his face momentarily behind his hand. Hancock was pleased at the reaction but didn't deter from the subject, thinking it was better to get to the bottom of the argument rather than letting it heal over and fester.  
  
"I don't really think they'll do anythin' to her. She's... too good. At what she does, who she is. If anythin' they'll try and get her to join 'em." He paused to grin micheviously. "I'd like to be a fly on that wall."  
  
They both laughed and allowed the moment to settle whilst slowly emptying their drinks. The sun was beginning to hang lower on the horizon and the sky was turning golden yellow as Hancock took his final gulp of the beer. He pushed it into the sand again and leaned back on his arms, stretching his legs with a satisfied groan as he looked over to Preston.   
  
"You really think the Minutemen are gonna fail again?"  
  
Preston felt ashamed for having those thoughts, for having doubt in the General, but he had once believed the Minutemen to be unconquerable and he'd been proven miserably wrong.  
  
"It's not that I don't believe in us, I just... Need to be prepared. Just incase, you know?"  
  
Hancock thought it over for a moment and remembered the countless nights he spent trying to keep Goodneighbor safe from usurpers and attackers alike, planning defenses with Fahrenheit and listening to rumors for even a hint of truth.   
  
"We're gonna be fine. If if we ain't, if shit happens, it won't fall on you to save us. We're in it together now, don't forget that."  
  
His eyes were set on the distance though it didn't look as he was present in the moment. It was as if he was a million miles away and while the evening didn't quite go as Hancock had anticipated it appeared to still be quite successful. Preston had a look in his eyes he wasn't sure if he'd seen before. It was peaceful. At ease. Exactly what he needed.  
  
Preston wasn't exactly a talker and while it was nice to unbottle his fears for a bit it was just as nice to just have company. He couldn't really remember the last time he'd been allowed to just exist without anyone wanting, or rather needing, something from him. It was a pleasant feeling to be useful but in the process he had forgotten how quiet things could be and how beautiful the world really was.   
  
How good it could feel to live in the moment and not a week in advance.   
  
And he knew the truth Hancock preached; he wasn't alone anymore. He'd been a lone soldier trying to protect scared and wounded survivors from the world and it just wasn't something anyone could've done alone. But thanks to the General, thanks to them both, nobody had to be alone anymore.  
  
It wasn't like his guilt would just disappear overnight and he had a long way to go before he could sleep comfortably but it wasn't impossible. Thanks to Hancock he was closer to getting better, to waking up without the universe weighing him down, and a little closer to forgiving himself.   
  
"Thank you." he said softly. It wasn't meant to be quite audible, but Hancock moved his head towards him.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Thank you." Preston said louder, meeting his gaze. He smiled genuinely and Hancock felt his heart skip a beat. It was like looking at the sun, blinding and pure, and he wondered how many settlers went to sleep thinking of him as their hero.   
  
"No sweat." Hancock replied without losing his cool. "Ya know... If ya want more time to yourself all ya gotta do is ask. She'd be more than happy to let you go have fun every once in a while."  
  
"Yeah. I know but I'm... I'm not comfortable not doing anything useful. There's so much to do."  
  
"Well, nothin' should be one of them."  
  
Preston frowned and looked at the ghoul.   
  
"What?"  
  
"You know; not doing anything should be something you do. Takin' a break, n'all." Hancock said while waving his hand as if it helped explain things.  
  
"Oh." Preston replied. "I guess."  
  
"If bein' alone is what's botherin' ya, I'm more than happy to treat you to a night you won't remember."  
  
Hancock was grinning again like he always did for the roguish troublemaker kind of look but this time Preston could see the man behind the eyes. The man who had spent nights alone with thoughts that felt like hurricanes tearing his heart and soul to pieces, the man who saw the ghosts of people he'd failed to protect and the man who knew damn well he had done the best he could but that didn't stop the pain from coming.   
  
"I might take you up on that."  
  
"I'm countin' on it."  
  
The sun had descended further and the sky was streaked with soft pink as day turned to evening. Preston weighed the bottle in his hand, noticed there wasn't much left of his beer and downed the rest in large gulp.   
  
"I'll get us some more beers, think I saw a few more." Preston said as he made an effort to heave himself up from the ground, grabbing Hancocks bottle in the process.  
  
"No need, my friend." Hancock replied, retrieveing a hip-flask from his pocket and shaking it in his hand. "Unless you're afraid of cooties?"   
  
The light sloshing inside the bottle indicated it was not quite filled to the brim but damn close and Preston paused before he softly sank back to the ground. He took the hip-flask and sniffed at the content and while it reminded him mostly of whiskey, the only real smell he could make out was that it was strong. He carefully took a sip, only letting a few drops get past his lips and yet he felt the alcohol burn his skin. Damn strong indeed.  
  
He grimaced and considered passing it back but decided to take a swig and hope for the best. The liquid burned the whole way down but somehow felt invigorating instead of horrible and he coughed when he felt it reach his stomach.  
  
"Good ain't it?" Hancock smirked, taking a swig of the hip-flask himself with only a slight purse of his lips.  
  
"What the hell is that?"  
  
"Goodneighbors finest! So exclusive it ain't even on the market."  
  
"Holy..." Preston continued. He could still feel it in his throat and while it wasn't an awful experience it was an experience he wouldn't soon forget. "I can't recognize it. What's in it?"  
  
"It's just the scrap, pretty much. When a bottle gets a little too empty but it ain't enough for it to be worthwhile keepin' around, I just pour it into my friend here. It's a little of everythin'."  
  
"That's got to be a little of a lot of things."  
  
Hancock smiled and confidently took another swig without letting the burning bother him too much. Ghouls were fairly desensitized from the physical pain of turning and since most of his nervendings weren't connected to a whole lot anymore he could power through more than most.   
  
Didn't help that he had drunk his fair share of alcohol even as a young human adult.  
  
They watched the clouds drift by until the pink grew purple then blue and the stars began to appear like freckles across the sky. The rest of the evening was calm and peaceful and once the recruits began the lightshow in the distance, jumping hurdles and shooting at sandbags, the two men fell into comfortable small talk, sharing memories they remembered fondly.   
  
Hancock told him stories of growing up by the ocean, of his brother before their relationship turned sour. How soothing the sound of water lapping against shore was after so many years and how he could still hear his mother hum a lullaby in tune with the waves.   
  
Preston responded with his own memories; the few memories he still had of his family before he lost contact with them and the strong morals they'd imposed on him. His hat that had belonged to a higher ranking Minutemen who'd given it to him after he officially joined the ranks, claiming it belonged to whoever had the biggest passion to do good and how Preston planned to do the same once he found a suitable successor.   
  
They talked about history and the universe and their place in it until Preston slurred his words a bit too much and Hancock felt the cold of the night bite through his shallow skin. Preston had to lean on the ghoul which felt unreasonable given their difference in build but Hancock was stronger than he looked and once Preston stood up, and the alcohol surged through his body, it didn't quite matter if he had limbs or not if he couldn't make sure where to put them to move forward.  
  
Hancock led him to his cot and made sure to tuck him in so he wouldn't drunkenly escape and cause havoc around the Castle. He stuck around until Preston had comfortably fallen asleep just incase, enjoying a cigarette by the small window.   
  
The smoke rose towards the stars and he thought about the General. If things had gone well enough she'd be camped down somewhere with a blanket tightly wrapped around herself to keep warm, sleeping lightly incase shit went down. Someone should've gone with her, he thought begrudgingly, but she could've gone with the whole Minutemen arsenal and he still would've worried about her safety.   
  
Being inlove was nice and all, kisses that tasted like candy and touches that felt like fire, but the worry and fear of them getting hurt sucked the fun right out of it. Hancock was due a long life and he preferred not to think too far ahead but the world would be in deep shit if his time with the General was cut shorter than it had to be.   
  
But, he comforted himself, she was even tougher than he was and she'd survived worse with less as she had said before she left. Things would work out, they had to, and while the panic settled in his gut and Preston began to snore Hancock finished his cigarette and went to sleep in her bed, hugging her pillow close as to pretend she was still there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still don't like what i write but maybe i just get tunnelvision. anyway; id like to think hancock and preston could relate to eachother very well and support eachother when things get tough. preston is a pure sunshine and hancock is a dirty goblin man but tbh they kinda compliment eachothers personalities, at least imo. 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed it. please let me know if there are typos or something sounds weird.


	8. Chapter 8

The General woke up stiff and freezing, shivering slightly when she opened her eyes. She'd been clever and huddled up in the corner where the sun wouldn't stare her in the eyes first thing in the morning but with that also came the shade that kept her low temperature from the night. She struggled to get free from the blanket she'd wrapped around herself during her sleep and once she released herself and crawled into the sun she sighed with relief.   
  
The sun would have to take its time heating through her skin and flesh but the immediate relief was a blessing and she got up to stretch to get her blood flowing properly again. A part of her would've prefered to stay asleep, maybe for a full month, since the silence and peace around her was rather uncommon.  
  
It was a rare moment where she was completely alone and she loved the Minutemen with all her heart but there was always something. Always a kidnapping or an impending attack or broken purifiers or crops not growing well enough, and no matter the resources and planning she put down there was always something the next day she hadn't predicted.  
  
She sat down to rumage through her backpack, looking for something to eat and drink, absentmindedly moving the objects around. What if she just left? Instead of trying to contact the Brotherhood she could just take off, head west or south and look for other civilizations. She could become someone else. The world had changed when she hadn't been looking and nothing was the way she remembered. She hadn't planned for this. She hadn't planned for things to change that way.  
  
But the thoughts of abandoning her son, of leaving Hancock behind without a word and betraying Prestons trust made her heart ache. It wouldn't be fair to them just as waking up 210 years after the death of everything she knew hadn't been fair to her.   
  
She sighed through a bite of mutfruit, trying not to think too much about the foreign taste. All she had wanted was to raise her little boy in her beautiful home and she would've gladly suffered through Nates advances. All she wanted was to live her life quietly and in peace.  
  
Instead she was eating mutated fruit on the floor of an abandoned building, preparing to talk to a military leader, as a leader herself, to maybe not end the world as she knew it a second time.   
  
But hell, maybe things were better now. Hancock didn't force her to do anything she didn't want to do and her son was still alive despite everything. Well, he was something but he was there and she honestly felt more alive than she ever had pre-war. Maybe it was the adrenaline from fighting or she hadn't quite acknowledged, after all this time, what had happened. But maybe this was the life she was meant to live.  
  
Sure, none of it was what she could've wished for but it had turned out just fine anyway, really. Though the thought of just taking off, shedding her past and present like a snakeskin and becoming someone new settled in the back of her head instead of dissapearing.  
  
She finished the mutfruit and wiped her hands on a rag. The damn thing was somehow jucier than any fruit she'd ever had before but mild in taste, half the time it was like eating a glass of water. It wasn't even as sweet as the fruits she'd grown up with and sometimes it was hard to imagine it really was a fruit.  
  
But compared to the bloatflystew she'd been surprised with during her first week in the wasteland she'd chow down on pretend radioactive blueberry apples any day.   
  
She got up to her feet, walked to the other end of the room and crouched next to the window. In the distance she could almost see the vertibird on top of the policestation, though it would've been impossible had the building between the two locations not been worn down and broken. But the glimpse of the vertibird was enough to confirm that the Brotherhood were still active in the area.   
  
Now that the wait was over she could feel the worry fill her gut. What if the Brotherhood had been behind the attack after all and they were expecting her visit? Though they probably hadn't expected her to go to their outpost instead of to their main base directly and it brought her down a notch. Being unpredictable would play well in her favor this time.   
  
The General returned to her backpack and retrieved her beloved general's uniform. She'd been apprehensive to put it on at first, partly because it had spent the better part of the past half of a century on a dead guy and partly because she hadn't officially felt like the General until it graced her body.   
  
It was stained with dried blood she hadn't been able to scrub out, blood that had been there for decades, and the fabric was thick but worn. There were patches of dirt that had more or less dyed the otherwise beautifully navy blue color into a murky pale brown and had it not been her official uniform it would've been a shoddy first impression. Pre-war it would've instantly labeled her as an outcast.  
  
But there was no way the Brotherhood would smell any better than she did, even if they loved to pretend they did.  
  
She adjusted her chestplate above her simple t-shirt, making sure the latches were firm but not strangling her. The coat felt soothingly familiar around her and it was as if it strengthened her authority simply by being worn. Then she wrapped the belt around her waist and shoulder and made sure that the radio was still active, hearing it spark through the speaker.   
  
The gloves were her least favorite garment as they were worn and a bit too big despite having been resized twice already. It made sense, she supposed, that repeated use would wear down the seams but the thought of sticking her hands in what felt like moist bags despite them being certainly dry made her cringe a little. She'd have to have a new pair made.  
  
The pipboy latched on easily and sat snuggly around her wrist. The clock said it was a little just after 8 AM which felt like a good time to mosey on over to the outpost, people had to be up by now and if they weren't then... damnit she was the General, they could sacrifice some sleep for her.  
  
If anything this meeting would prove to be an excellent time for her to exert her authority. She was the _goddamn_ General and this was _her_ Commonwealth whether those goons liked it or not. If the Brotherhood wasn't behind the attack then that would be a great relief but there were still troubling reports about their behaviour towards ghouls. Their synth-hunting tactics were about as accurate as Covenants quiz and they were taking too many liberties when accusing random people for not being human, though it had calmed down a bit after the fall of the Institute.   
  
And hey, who did that?  
  
She slung her backpack over her shoulder and did a final pat down for dust on her butt and legs, sighing for courage. She _was_ the goddamn General of the Minutemen and the Commonwealth belonged to her. She was the Sole Survivor of Vault 111 and the one who brought an end to the Institute.  
  
She closed her eyes and took another deep breath; allowing air to fill her lungs until her chest ached and then she relaxed, letting her anxiety out with the breath. She was the one who survived when everyone else around her burned and she had given more for her people than the entire Brotherhood combined could ever think off.   
  
If they didn't fear her they'd better respect her and the Elder might have been brought up to lead but she'd been born to do it.   
  
The wooden floor creaked under her feet and each step made the dust stir in the air as she carefully descended the stairs. Halfway down she stopped to release the soft string that when triggered pulled a few cans filled with rocks down from above, effectively making an obnoxiously loud sound that would've warned her if anything tried to come at her in the night. She left the cans as they were incase she'd ever end up in the same place again or if, perhaps, someone else might take up camp in the building and find a use for them.   
  
Outside the air was much fresher and it cleared her mind. They didn't know about the anxiety biting on her insides and her fear of being put in charge. They didn't know that she had no idea what she was doing half the time and while they probably expected her to be in fearful awe of the Brotherhoods prowess they didn't know if she was.   
  
The sun was gentle on her face and it felt like a good day. When she had first gone through Cambridge after the Great War there'd been at least two ferals in every building and a few resting on the streets but now there wasn't a trace left that they had ever existed.   
  
It was almost suspicious how there wasn't even any shot-off limbs or spots of blood and fluids dried into the pavement and walls. Maybe the Brotherhood was planning something longterm here, perhaps they were thinking of turning the town into a local Brotherhood base, something permanent. That's what she would've done.  
  
But she had walked right into town without anything stopping her and from what she had seen the town was more or less deserted. They weren't stupid and if they really wanted to take control over the town they would've set up perimeters and taken precautions. The General wasn't exactly a common moron raider but she would've expected some kind of resistance.   
  
As she walked up to the small guardpost outside Cambridge Police Station she shouted out 'hey' to the man patrolling on the catwalk. His eyes quickly darted over to her and in a swift movement he assumed a fighters stance; slightly crouched with his weapon firmly pointed at her and he called out back.  
  
"Stop right there. That's close enough."  
  
She raised both hands in the air in a mock defeat though he only saw her showing she was unarmed. A part of her thought that the coat alone and the Minutemen insignia on her chestplate would've been enough for the guy to unclench his ass and she was a little embarrassed at how important she thought she was.   
  
It was a weird balance; recognizing her power and place in the universe while at the same time remembering she was only human. It wasn't as if she expected him to roll out the red carpet and handfeed her grapes but she found herself slightly dissapointed at how long he kept his laser pointed at her head.   
  
"State your name and business."  
  
It was almost insulting and she had to force herself back down to earth before her ego raged into space.  
  
"I'm the General of the Minutemen. I'm here to see Paladin Danse."  
  
"That's a bold lie."  
  
"Good thing it's not one."  
  
She lowered her hands in defiance but gestured towards her chestplate. He seemed to relax a little but he remained alert and the weapon didn't waver. If all Brotherhood soldiers were as steady on their hands as he was, she was glad they hadn't yet gone to war.   
  
"For all I know you're just a raider who stole a fancy outfit."  
  
Well, he had a point.   
  
"If I was a raider, you think I'd be smart enough to try and stage an impersonation? And as the General of the Minutemen of all people?"  
  
He remained silent. Not even a muscle moved under his skin and she found it remarkable how he had such composure. She didn't exactly pose a threat but it was as if he wasn't even breathing.   
  
"You think I'd request to see a Paladin by his name? Much less know his name?"  
  
It seemed she finally reached through to him because he visibly relaxed infront of her. He lowered his weapon,but kept it ready and his shoulders slumped a little. As he straightened out his back he took a deep breath.   
  
"Why would the General of the Minutemen ask to see Paladin Danse at this outpost?"  
  
"Because this is where I saved his life."  
  
The man snarled and gave her a disgusted look.   
  
"You expect me to believe a simple wastelander saved a Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel? Nonsense."  
  
Ugh.   
  
"Could you just... Like, just go check if he's available? Or something? Please? I need to see him."  
  
The man clearly harbored distaste for the simple folk of the Commonwealth and he could fuck right on home for all she cared but the man was currently a roadblock between her and the Paladin. Losing her temper on the fella could have disastrous results though she had done worse for less many times.   
  
"Assuming you are who you claim to be, _ma'am_ , I'm inclined to inform you that the Paladin is currently not stationed at this outpost."  
  
Well fuck.  
  
She was about to ask how she could contact him directly when the man continued.  
  
"But _if_ you are who you say you are, I'll make sure headquarters are notified of your presence. Surrender your weapons and step inside the gate."  
  
A part of her immediately wanted to fight his orders but she could see where he was coming from and if she were in his position she'd ask the same. The thought of being unarmed in until-proven-otherwise enemy territory made her skin crawl but she figured the switchblade in her left boot could probably be left undisturbed.   
  
Could they really expect anything less?  
  
"Alright. You're the boss." she said as she stepped through the gate which was more or less just an opening between barricades.   
  
Things didnt look much different if memory served her right. It was kind of eerie, as if time hadn't moved ,and it confused her; was it still an outpost and if so, why did it still look the same as when Paladin Danse and his buddies first arrived in the 'wealth?   
  
"Love what you've done with the place." she said, whistling softly under her breath.   
  
He scoffed and she could visualize the wrinkle on his nose without even turning to face him. The backpack slid off her shoulder in a smooth motion and he roughly grabbed it. She almost lashed out at him for manhandling her personal properties but to be fair, the things in that backpack had gone through hell already and one Brotherhood goon could hardly put the final nail in the coffin for them.   
  
He quickly dug through her stuff, almost carelessly so, and after barely two minutes of rummaging he shoved the backpack back in her arms.   
  
"Go inside and report to Knight Rhys. He'll take it from here."  
  
Oh boy.   
  
"You're leaving me? I thought we had a connection."  
  
"Watch it." he sneered. "I'm on guard duty. Step inside and report to Knight Rhys or leave the area."   
  
She knew she'd better keep her tongue in check but it was so hard not to mouth back at them when everything about them felt like a thorn in her side. Not only the aura of arrogance that seemed to permeate the air whenever they were around but the way they held themselves and the things they said; always with a smug sense of superiority. They probably wiped their ass thinking it was cleaner than the plate they ate from.   
  
When he turned around to return to the catwalk she saluted him, trying to satisfy her smartassery with things she could at least hide.   
  
Inside it was clean and empty save for a few desks that were void of anything of substance. She called out once, thinking she'd better stay put or risk the wrath of Rhys. The guy had had a stick up his ass when she saved his life and she didn't want to think what kind of mood he'd be in when he wasn't in her immediate debt.   
  
There was movement in a room adjecent to where she was and Rhys quickly stomped towards her on high alert.  
  
"State your business." he said urgently. He had a wild look in his eyes as if he just woken up and she'd slammed two pots together. Christ. Were they kept in isolation here?  
  
"I'm the General of the Minutemen, requesting permission to speak with Paladin Danse."  
  
Rhys hadn't changed much though last time he'd been close to bleeding out and now he looked as if he hadn't slept for a week and a half. His eyes scanned her and he frowned in confused recognition.   
  
"Ma'am...?"  
  
"We've met before." she decided to help. "You, Paladin Danse and... Scribe Haylen, I think? Were under attack by ferals and I..." she paused. There was a powerstruggle between naughty and nice in her mind before nice landed a boot on naughtys jaw and knocked naughty out of the battle. "I ended up lending you a helping hand dispatching the enemy."  
  
Rhys gave her a once over, quickly darting his eyes up and down her body, lingering on the Minutemen insignia on her chestplate.  
  
"That was a simple wastelander, not the General..." he said slowly.  
  
She offered him a smile and it was as sincere as she could possibly make it.   
  
"Ah, yes. I wasn't the General yet. But I am now."  
  
An awkward silence filled the room and the place became so void of sound she could hear the blood rushing through her head. _Holy hell_ , she thought. This wasn't what she was expecting.   
  
"So..." she drawled.   
  
"You want to speak with Paladin Danse? Why?"  
  
The day had only just begun and she already couldn't wait for it to be over. Why did the Brotherhood have to be so... weird?  
  
"I'd like for that to remain between the Paladin and myself."  
  
Rhys gave her a look like he'd just sucked the juice out of a lemon and before he could argue, most likely about how he was entitled to hear what business she had before he connected them, she continued.  
  
"Please. I understand that you are very busy people but it is important that I may speak with Paladin Danse as soon as possible. My title as the General of the Minutemen, protector of the Commonwealth and as the one who brought down the Institute, should be enough merit to at least allow me to speak with him through a radio."  
  
He blew out air through his nose in resignation. They both knew the hell she could eventually put him through if he kept stalling but at the same time she could understand his reservation. If she was lying and he wasted precious Brotherhood time... there'd be hell to pay for that too.   
  
"I'll try to establish contact." he said before waving her along as he turned around. The radio was in the room he'd just been in and while the main hall had been empty, this room was stacked wall to wall with boxes filled to the brim.   
  
To look at a document without permission could very well land her ass on the other side of the Commonwealth but she couldn't help but to sneak a peak on one of the folders ontop of a bookcase. The only words she could make out were "scouting briefings" and an odd serial code but it was enough to hint at what was inside.  
  
Scouting? So they were looking for something. By all means, she thought. Whatever the Brotherhood wanted couldn't be something her people was in dire need of themselves. Sure, maybe if they had blueprints to better water purifiers or a guide on how to build sturdier houses out of dry dead wood she might've tried to fight them a little on it but most likely they were looking for a laser rifle 2.0 or something like that.  
  
There'd been plenty of experimentations in Boston before the bombs finally dropped, that she could remember. Each 'scientific breakthrough' on the news sounded better than the last at the time but in hindsight she wish people would've focused less on building things to destroy with and more on how to preserve the little good they had.   
  
Rhys waved her over to a chair and she sat down obediently. Her backpack rested by her feet and she felt almost young again, waiting at the principals office after getting in trouble. She considered for a moment that Hancock would've loved that anecdote and suddenly she missed him immensely.   
  
Preston had been the one who anchored her to reality and set her mind straight when the world was foreign and hostile but Hancock had been what became her home. He'd become what was safe and familiar and when the nights were too cold and dark he'd been there with a friendly smile to set her soothe her.  
  
She had fallen inlove so hard and so fast it had almost been impossible to hate the wasteland.   
  
The radio crackled to life and Rhys eased into his chair. Maybe they had problems communicating if he was so tense over just a radio. But the Brotherhood had plenty of technology to get the range they needed. Then perhaps there was just tension building amongst them? It was possible they were getting homesick, assuming the Institute had been the only thing they'd come for. And since the Institute was gone...   
  
The woman on the other end asked him to report in and Rhys began his rehearsed Brotherhood lines, stating his rank, registration and outpost. It brought back gentle memories of telephone salesmen and her mind briefly fluttered to the vault-tec representative. But instead of a stroll down memory lane she promptly put a lid on that thought and refocused on Rhys annoying voice.   
  
"I'm requesting the radio-presence of Paladin Danse, registration DN-4079."  
  
"I'll send a request for him. What is it about?"  
  
Rhys took a quick glance behind him and had there not been muscles keeping her eyeballs in place they would've rolled a full circle through her skull. How inconspicuous.  
  
"The General of the Minutemen is requesting to speak with him."  
  
"The what? Are you serious? Why?"  
  
"I, uh..."  
  
He glanced backwards again and the deer-caught-in-headlights look on his face was a bit to delicious for the General to do anything but smile and shrug at. The words seemed to scramble in his head as he tried to quickly come up with something, finally settling on a few choice words after 10 seconds of uncomfortable silence.  
  
"It's a secret."  
  
"A se-... Are you serious?"  
  
The woman sighed audibly and a faint sound of papers rustling carried over.  
  
"Can you confirm the identity of the person requesting the Paladin?"  
  
Rhys scoffed and rather inelegantly choked out 'no' before he caught himself, clearing his throat.  
  
"I can neither confirm nor deny her identity but strong signs suggest she's telling the truth."  
  
The General leaned closer to the microphone before the woman could reply.  
  
"Scout's honor."  
  
She had to stifle a giggle at the silence, mentally imagining a woman pinching the bridge of her nose. Rhys gave her a glare that could've killed before he returned to the radio to salvage his situation.  
  
Going straight to the airport where the Brotherhood were stationed would've been quicker and smoother but she couldn't deny the joy she recieved from inconveniencing the Brotherhood, even if it was only by bothering Rhys.   
  
"This isn't Brotherhood protocol, Knight Rhys. You can't have an unidentified person listening in on our official channels."  
  
"Her claims appear legitimate and I couldn't leave her unattended."  
  
"Don't forget the part where you owe me for saving your life and oh, also I'm the General of the Minutemen."  
  
"What? What did she say? She's too far away from the radio."  
  
"She said... Look, can you arrange for Paladin Danse to come to the radio?"  
  
The line went quiet for a moment and the silence became deafening. Somehow the brief lapse of communication felt like sensory deprivement and for a few seconds the General wondered if the airship had rocket launchers built into its chassis and they were aiming it at the policestation.  
  
The tension was visibly building in his shoulders until the voice crackled back.  
  
"The General has been approved to board a vertibird. We're expecting her presence within the hour, Paladins orders. Prydwen out."  
  
The tension remained for another moment, briefly smothering the General and forcing her to take a deep breath, until it popped like a bubble and Rhys stood up. His face was expressionless, stoic to preserve his pride and he seemed to dissapear into himself.   
  
"Ma'am, if you're ready please follow me."  
  
His changed demeanor was offputting and slightly scary so she scrambled to her feet, pulling her backpack up with her, eager to escape the sudden change in the air. Perhaps the situation was a bit more serious than she expected as the Brotherhood was in general more serious than what she was accustomed to.  
  
She almost felt bad that her mischief might push him in trouble but the memory of what an ass he'd been all those months ago would soothe her conscience. The trip upstairs was brief and the fresh cool air felt wonderful against her skin and in the distance she could see the ruins of the city.   
  
Didn't matter how many times she laid her eyes on the broken skyscrapers, every time took her breath away. She could barely remember what it used to look like anymore but at one point the skyline had been a thing of beauty and admiration. Would things ever go back to the way they'd been?  
  
But the reminiscence was cut short when a large man in a way too tight jumpsuit threw a cigarette butt off the side of the building and and glared at her.  
  
"Who're you?"   
  
The General felt the sting of offence but Rhys was quick to speak behind her.   
  
"This is the General of the Minutemen, you're taking her to the Prydwen."  
  
The man arched his eyebrows and shrugged, moving into the pilots seat without hesitation. The General suddenly lost her confidence as she looked at the vehicle. There weren't any doors covering two sides of it. How the hell would she stay inside the damn vertibird? What if he did a sharp turn and tossed her out over Boston?  
  
But it was too late to back out and she carefully climbed the steps onto the vertibird, tightly gripping the handles on the side of the vertibird. Nate had told her once about the thrill of going up in the air and how the view made things seem peaceful even if just for a moment. He'd told her how a little distance could put things in such great perspective.   
  
Though as she secured her seat and gripped the handle with all of her strength she couldn't imagine how he could find time to think about anything other than not falling out.   
  
The engine was loud, smothering her thoughts but increasing her fear. She had seen these things get blown out of the sky by raiders and supermutants and they were both two of the dumbest things in the Commonwealth.   
  
Judging by how the propellers were howling in her ears she wasn't too surprised; a key to surviving in the wasteland was to be quiet or to be prepared to defend and from her position she was not even close to consider herself safe. For all she knew she was a big screaming target and as the vertibird began to ascend she felt her gut drop.   
  
The vertibird became airborne, completely free from the ground, and she momentarily closed her eyes. The second the world became dark it started spinning, tickling her lungs and her eyes shot open again. Below her the police station shrunk as the pilot began turning towards the Prydwen and at least she didn't feel as if she was sliding across the metal.   
  
Though the way her legs were frozen in place she wasn't too sure how she would ever get off the thing once they landed.  
  
The trip across Boston was undeniably beautiful, she couldn't deny that. It was certainly a different perspective but as much as she disliked the Brotherhood and as little faith she had in a rewarding conversation with the Elder they couldn't get to the airship soon enough.  
  
Luckily, going the bird route cut the travel time over a tenth and soon they were flying over the airport with many small powerarmors and soldiers crossing back and forth over the ground. They truly did look like ants from that point of view.   
  
When the pilot maneuvered the vertibird to latch onto the airship she felt calmer but the view still made her stomach drop 10 feet. Goddamn, they were high in the air. How did they even keep this thing floating much less do any work onboard without constantly fighting the urge to vomit in terror?  
  
Perhaps that's why the Brotherhood were notorious for their lovely posterior; if you clench your ass long enough it's bound to shape up beautifully.   
  
The pilot casually jumped out of the cockpit while the General took her time to slowly unfreeze her limbs. Not only the fear of falling off but the freezing winds at that altitude had soaked through her body and she couldn't wait for this to be over so she could crawl into bed with Hancock and have him hug the cold away.   
  
Her longing was cut short when a burly man walked up to her and extended his hand. He wasn't in his powerarmor and his hair looked a lot bigger than she remembered but the man was without a doubt the Paladin and she graciously accepted his hand. It didn't make stepping off vertibird that much easier as he wasn't tethered to the ground and moved a little but she appriciated the gesture and that was something, at least.   
  
Once her feet were on solid-ish ground she took a deep breath and patted out the wrinkles in her coat before extending another hand to shake his. He accepted it briefly, it was a firm shake but too short, before he cleared his throat.  
  
"Welcome aboard the Prydwen, General. We're happy you're here."  
  
"Thank you, Paladin Danse, I'm glad to be here."  
  
"May I ask," he said while shifting his posture, locking his hands behind his back, "why did you seek me out at the outpost and not here?"  
  
She hated how he towered over her and how he reeked of authority but she soothed her ego reminding herself that she outranked him by far, regardless of the difference in their allegiance.   
  
"Oh you know, social anxiety."  
  
He frowned, large eyebrows pushed together, while he looked for the appropriate response.   
  
"I see." he replied slowly. "Well you're here now and Elder Maxson is waiting. Please follow me."  
  
Paladin Danse stepped aside and allowed her to proceed ahead of him, pointing her to the right with his hand. The General took a last look at the wasteland below her, hitching a breath at the view before she carefully walked over to the door, letting blood slowly fill her legs again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry for the slow updates!!! im going in and out of inspiration and somehow i ended up writing 5k words here where nothing actually happens. i tried to plan this story and i got a basic outline but im still winging it pretty hard, figured id cut the chapter here because it'd just be too much. next chapter is undergoing and will pick up right where i left off, just needed to cut so it wasnt a novellenght chapter.   
> thank you for your patience!!!! i really hope you enjoy this story and if you see a typo or a mistake (don't remember much about the brotherhood so there will be some) please let me know.   
> comments and kudos are appriciated <3


	9. Chapter 9

The inside of the airship was dark and the stench of oil hung in the air. Compared to the world outside it felt claustrophobic to move inside the hollow hull and each step felt uncertain. She didn't doubt the Brotherhood enjoyed how it played into undermining her authority, it was designed to move an impressive army after all. In the world of business and power appearances were everything and with the right setting a mouse could look like a lion.   
  
She hoped she didn't look like a mouse.  
  
The Paladin walked behind her until they reached an oval room with glass windows facing the ruins of Boston. Elder Maxson, presumably, stood with his back turned against them, looking out over the wasteland. He seemed to be slightly shorter than herself, excluding the heels on her boots, but his shoulders were broad and his heavy coat only added to his girth. Physically he could easily take her down in a fight but with any luck he was all muscle and less brain.   
  
Paladin Danse cleared his throat behind her, taking a step forward to stand next to her before he announced her arrival.  
  
"Elder Maxson. The General has arrived."  
  
The Elder turned around and while she certainly appriciated his flair for drama she found herself at a loss for words. There'd been rumors circulating and of course she had taken it with a grain of salt, but the Elder had been infamous for being incredibly young for his position. Though as she stared at him she couldn't quite see it. Had his hair had streaks of grey he would've easily passed as someone in their late 40's but perhaps it was the nasty scar running down his face that added decades to his appearance.   
  
The General probably didn't pass as a mouse but he was certainly a lion.   
  
"General. Welcome to the Prydwen. I hope you enjoyed the flight, it must've been quite the experience."  
  
The smile that plastered her face was pure instinct, a remnant from her old days where men would blatantly ignore her if she didn't make herself accomodating and she hated how ingrained it was. Later she'd have to feel bad about herself but right now she had to power through, say the right things and look the proper way so she could get under his skin.   
  
"It was something indeed. The view was impressive. Really puts things in perspective."  
  
The Elder briefly looked towards the Paladin, curtly nodded and the Paladin excused himself. She took a few steps closer while the Elder walked over to a table and poured them a drink, waving his hand towards the couch lining the wall. She cast a quick look through the window as she sat down, admiring the city.  
  
Was this the view he greeted himself with every morning? Did he find the Commonwealth as gorgeous as she did or did he simply enjoy the vantage point, literally looking down on the people living there?  
  
She accepted the drink of what smelled like whiskey as he took a seat next to her. He kept a respectable distance, slightly turned against her and she appriciated his respect for her personal space. She couldn't count the times a man had put his hand on her body or leaned in far too close in a professional setting where she'd been unable to retaliate, or the looks they'd given her; both condescending and flirtatious in one.   
  
She spent 7 long years reading until her eyes hurt and writing until her fingers cramped for men with less qualifications to ask her to bring them coffee.   
  
"It does. I can only imagine what Boston must have looked like in its prime, I'm sure it upsets you to see it in such ruins."  
  
She laughed softly, crossing her legs.   
  
"Wasn't fun to see Joes Pizzas crumbled to the ground but I've managed."  
  
"Must be a stark contrast and a depressing one at that. The Brotherhood has accumulated many documents and references to the pre-war world, it's a great shame it has deteriorated as much as it has."  
  
"Well it was a different world, that's for sure, but it was a world in great crisis. With the war and all. And the New Plague. And insane inflation."   
  
The Elder nodded in acknowledgement, sipping his drink.  
  
"That is true but you can't deny the accomplishments the people of your time was able to achieve, things that today are impossible."  
  
"Indeed," she said, tugging the corners of her mouth in a playful smirk, "but it wasn't impossible for the Institute."  
  
The Elder smiled and for the first time showed a little emotion in his features. It became slightly more possible to imagine him as a young man instead of a war-torn elder and she surprised herself by feeling a bit more sympathetic towards him.  
  
"Yes, the Institute. You don't beat around the bush do you? I haven't formally expressed my gratitude though I don't doubt you understand how truly grateful the Brotherhood are."   
  
"They were a mutual threat."  
  
"That they were, and a formidable one at that. How did you manage? With all due respect, our intel suggests that the Minutemen had perished not too long ago until you resurrected them, and somehow you have amassed forces enough to strike out one of the greater evils in the world."  
  
That's lucky, she thought. Word didn't get around.  
  
"Didn't need an army, just a lucky shot. I'm sure if we hadn't succeed, you would've."  
  
"One hell of a lucky shot. However, I can't say I'm not dissapointed that you didn't attempt to cooperate sooner. There were surely things that could've been salvaged. As evil and immoral as the Institute were they were clever scientists and we live in a world of dire need of science and technology."  
  
"Well..." she said, pausing to find the right words. In a perfect world she would've had an immediate answer instead of exposing a weakness but the conversation had taken a turn into the serious, as expected, and the wrong words would do more harm than the slow ones. "In the wrong hands it would've only been a repeated story. I don't doubt they had valuable information but it's been discovered once, it can be discovered again."  
  
"But you don't deny that there are decades worth of information now lost that could've benefited mankind?"  
  
"I suppose that depends on what you consider to benefit mankind."  
  
"Well what do you consider a benefit?"  
  
She wasn't surprised about the discomfort that had snaked itself into her body but it made her nauseous all the same. It would've been so easy to simply go off on him, to tell him all the awful things she thought about him and his soldiers but she was the general and her words were the words of the Minutemen.   
  
"Clean water." she said, looking him straight in the eyes. She noticed a slight twitch on his upper lip as if he wanted to interrupt but he kept silent.   
  
"Healthier crops, sturdier buildings. Accessible healthcare, proper defenses. Anything that would make the everymans life easier. I'd like to see my people strong and free, independent."  
  
"That's all? You don't want to see the world restored to its former glory?"  
  
"Its former glory? Look, I'm sure that from where you're standing there's a lot of good things lost in time but even more got lost in the nuclear fire. 200 years changes a lot of things but the world you speak so fondly of ended for a reason."  
  
"It ended because of arrogant men playing with things they didn't understand but we-"  
  
"Oh," she laughed, "I know why it ended."  
  
Her gaze dropped to the glass she was holding, swirling the liquid around. It'd been a while since she woke up in the vault but it never got easier to remember the things she'd lost. It rubbed her the wrong way to hear him speak of it as if he knew anything about it. He was idolizing a world in turmoil because it had the weapons to destroy civilizations with and if it were to end up in Brotherhood hands they'd be unstoppable.   
  
But she'd been there, lived there, in her lovely little home with her lovely little family until it had all faded into ashes. What right did he have to pretend things had been fine?   
  
"I apologize." he said after a brief silence. "Of course this is a sensitive subject."  
  
At least he had tact, she thought. She braced herself with a neutral smile and a deep breath.  
  
"We come from different places and have different points of view. We'll just have to agree to disagree."  
  
"I'll drink to that." he said, lifting his drink and tipping it slightly when she raised hers.  
  
The alcohol was strong and burned its way down her throat but it was pleasant, in a way. Grounding.   
  
"So," she said, "the Brotherhood came from the Capital Wasteland? Where is that exactly?"  
  
"I believe you would've known it as Washington DC but the Brotherhood has several divisions spread across America."  
  
"Oh." she said, raising her eyebrows. "How does the rest of America compare to Boston?"  
  
"Quite well. Your settlements are rather unique, however, people tend to gather in the major cities back in the Capital Wasteland."  
  
"I guess I can see the value in that. Suppose there are no Minutemen in the Capital Wasteland?"  
  
"No, that's a feature unique to the Commonwealth."  
  
She chuckled, twirling the liquor in her glass again. The horror stories she'd heard about the Brotherhood and their fearless Elder didn't quite match up with how non-threatened she ended up feeling or perhaps it was only the alcohol working its magic.  
  
"And how are you liking the Commonwealth?"  
  
"You're wondering why we're still here."  
  
"Oh, I-"  
  
"No, it's a perfectly reasonable query. I was expecting it. I was expecting it sooner, in fact."  
  
"Suppose it's my time to apologize for lack of contact."  
  
"Not at all, you've certainly had enough to do. Maintaining several settlements is far from an easy task and you've been busy taking down the Institute. I can't imagine the trials you must've suffered. Tell me, how did you find them? I have come to understand that they were secured underground."  
  
"They were. Underground, yes."  
  
She could admit her personal relations to the Institute and how it gave her a link inside but it would hardly put her in a better light. The General was not a good liar and only knew sarcastic quips spontanously but he was staring at her, icy blue eyes drilling a hole through her own.   
  
"Just... Things I remembered. From my time. The C.I.T were in the news everyday with updates and breakthroughs to aid the war, figured if the Institute would be anywhere they'd try to be at least close to that place."  
  
Ignoring the fact that during 200 years they could've easily scavenged everything and moved somewhere else and also there'd been nothing alluding to an underground facility in the ruins but he seemed to accept her reply, nodding carefully before tasting his drink.   
  
They sat in silence for a moment while the Elder dragged his thumb across the rim of the glass. He was handsome, the rumors hadn't exaggerated. 200 years ago she could count at least 4 women who would've fought for his attention and at least 3 men.   
  
"You're very young." she said without really thinking. As soon as the words were out she realized how inappropriate it was but he didn't recoil in offence.  
  
"I am." he replied. "Due to unfortunate circumstances I had to embrace my title and responsibilities a bit earlier. Quite a bit like you, I imagine. I'd like to think I'm doing a good job."  
  
"Oh you are. The Brotherhood of Steel is a very impressive faction."  
  
"And yet we couldn't take down the Institute."   
  
The Elder smiled darkly, his eyes cold and firm. Had she wounded his pride? She almost wanted to laugh but the look in his eyes told her that he could easily crush her throat with one hand if he wanted to.   
  
The air shifted and the casual feeling transformed into a smothering tension. At the back of her mind she was reminded of the attack, the reason she had gone to begin with, and a fear shivered its way into her guts. Had it been a trap all along? The switchblade in her boot was neatly tucked away and there'd be no way to fish it out without him noticing and retaliating.   
  
"I won't deny that it reflects poorly on the Brotherhood that, excuse my phrasing, a pack of civilians and farmers managed to eliminate the scourge of the wasteland while my excellently trained soldiers and tacticians came up empty handed. Now I assure you, the Brotherhood remains very thankful for your contributions but through your imprudent actions many things of importance were lost and that has had severe consequences for both of us."  
  
The General felt the blood drain from her face and she held on a little tighter to the glass in her lap, doing her best to keep steady so the liquid wouldn't betray her cool. He was staring very intently, as if he was breaking into her soul, and she found herself feeling exposed and vulnerable.   
  
 "You're not here to introduce yourself. There's no secret you have to divulge to Paladin Danse and I know you used him as a way inside. I know there is more about the Institute that you're hiding but I will be kind and let you keep your little secrets as long as it's of no use to the Brotherhood and if it is, we will find out."  
  
The Elder swallowed the rest of the drink in one sweep without even flinching, standing up to refill his glass. A small part of the General wanted to bolt out the room and take her chances jumping off the ledge and another wanted to reach for her blade and stab him in the neck. But the major part, the sensible one, began planning on how to manuver the conversation without killing herself.   
  
"You are here for a reason, however. What is it?"  
  
She could be honest and mention the attack or stick to the plan and bring up the trade. Though it was entirely possible he would see through everything like a goddamn hawk... The trade would be safer, assuming he didn't see through the lie which would almost definitely agitate him more but to accuse him of attacking her people would do about the same.  
  
It would all come down to what she was able to pull off.   
  
"I came to propose a trade."  
  
"A trade."  
  
"Since you've been here an unexpectedly long time, it's got to be hard on your resources and we can supply food and clean water in exhange for technology that might help us."  
  
He swirled the drink around in his glass before taking a gulp, drinking half of it at once.   
  
"You're here for a trade?" he said, turning around to look at her again.   
  
"I don't want there to be any animosity between us."  
  
"So you want to trade."  
  
"Cooperation would keep us both strong."  
  
"Cooperation through a trade."  
  
"Yes." she said, nodding slowly. What was the jig? What was he aiming at?   
  
"You want to trade tatos and brahmins for technology you don't understand?"  
  
How'd he gone from a charming young man to an insufferable jackass? The anger stirring up in her was bad news and she did her best to swallow her pride but damnit, those tincan bastards didn't have anything Sturges couldn't use as a light bathroom reading.   
  
She tried on her most lovable smile and did her damndest to make her eyes sparkle, something had to give.  
  
"Wouldn't expect you to give up your trade secrets," she said with a wink, "but I'm sure you've got something of equal value."  
  
Back in the day she could've charmed any man or woman to do her bidding, it'd been what made her job so much fun and by the startled look in his eye she could tell it had an effect. A minor one, as he didn't lose his guard, but an effect nonetheless and she only need to get her footing back.   
  
"Maybe you have a trick to getting cleaner water or maybe you have a more efficient method of defending a small settlement, anything would do."  
  
Something changed in his eyes for a splitsecond, something akin to suspicion but more wary than prowling, before he regained his composure and brushed off her charm.   
  
"I'm sure something can be arranged." he said, walking towards the windows. He resumed his stance, gazing out over the city like a watchful guardian and she fought the urge to push him through the glass. "And that's all you wanted?"  
  
She needed to find out about the attack but she doubted she'd be able to sneak a peak at any documents or references and there was no way anyone would tell her anything substantial. Going a direct route was both stupid and the smartest thing she could do; if she confronted him he'd either tell the truth or lie and if he lied she might be able to tell.    
  
And hell, worst thing he'd be offended and she'd just have to smooth things over with her awardwinning charm. Unless he was guilty and broke the bottle to stab her throat.   
  
"Actually..." she began, chugging the rest of her drink. "I'd hate to shoot myself in the foot here but I trust you don't mind me being blunt."  
  
"By all means." he said, raising his glass in appriciation.  
  
"About a week ago one of my settlements were attacked, which isn't anything new, and the attackers were successfully dealt with. Usually I don't give a damn who they are or why they're doing it as long as they get what's coming to them but apparently a guy recognized one of the attackers and could place him speaking to someone who could easily pass as one of you and-," she paused to shrug, "that's not easy. You guys are well-built compared to the average joe."  
  
The Elder finished his drink and left the glass on the table, keeping silent. Her skin crawled in anticipation, doing her best to determine if the silence was because he was guilty and got caught or if he was innocent and didn't know how to react to the allegation.   
  
"I'm not accusing you of anything, please don't misunderstand. I don't think you'd stoop to that level and I don't think you'd gain anything of it so why would you, you know? But it's not something I can leave unattended, I'm sure you agree. If there is any bad blood between our factions that's something we need to clear up. Right?"  
  
Their eyes met, two strong souls staring eachother down. The tension was reaching a breakingpoint and she'd either bend or break but the way he was looking at her wasn't threatening. It seemed as if Hancock and Preston had worried in vain and she'd been right all along; the Brotherhood had nothing to do with the attack since the Elder took a final curt sigh and locked his hands behind his back.  
  
"That is very serious. I can assure you that the Brotherhood do not abide such actions and to calm your fears; the Brotherhood was not behind it. I hope my word is enough."  
  
"It is." she said. Technically he could still be lying and perhaps he was an excellent liar but there was no hesitation in his eyes or waver in his voice. For now she would have to accept it, his word was all she needed and to be fair, all she could get, and if he had a secret agenda there wasn't a whole lot she could do about it.   
  
"Well..." she said, uncrossing her legs and heaving herself up from the couch. "I suppose we both need to evaluate our resources and draw up a trade agreement. What would you say the Brotherhood is the most in need of on our end? You mentioned tatos?"  
  
The elder remained silent, staring at a spot on the floor.   
  
"I'm sorry... if, y'know, you're offended by us thinking you were behind it but I just had to clear up the suspicion. I mean, I really didn't suspect you. I just had to-"  
  
"Would you like a tour of the Prydwen?"  
  
His eyes were neutral when he turned around and the General almost felt whiplash from the sudden change. She was known herself as someone who rarely lost her cool and she couldn't imagine how it was possible to go from 0 to 100 to 0 again in such a short timespan.   
  
Though, in a way, it made perfect sense. Rumor had it he was in his early 20s and somehow he had an entire military force beneath his wings. Thousands of men and women who directly depended on him with their lives and that had to be a lot for a young man to shoulder. She tried to place herself in his shoes and felt the empathic stress squeeze in her chest. Pressure like that had to put a strain on your mentality.   
  
"A tour?"  
  
"Yes. A tour. Few civilians get to- oh, I apologize. I meant few outside of the Brotherhood enter the Prydwen, perhaps you would like to see the rest of her."  
  
"Uh, sure. Yeah, that would be lovely. But what about the-"  
  
"The trade can be drawn up after the tour, I have to consult with my team of advisors and I'm sure you need time to consider it as well. I can give you a brief outline to take back to your Castle."  
  
He signaled a guard by the entrance who without a word stepped inside while the General tried to assess the situation. He wanted her to go on a tour? Like a tourist? There had to be a reason, was he preparing to push her off the ship? Was he stalling for time? Probably, but why?  
  
The men exchanged quiet words and the guard quickly left while the Elder turned his attention back to her.   
  
"It took 6 years to build her. Won't find anything else like her in the world."  
  
"I'll believe that." she laughed awkwardly. "How do you keep her floating?"  
  
"There are four jet engines positioned on the flight deck that keeps her altitude and we use a nuclear core to keep the power going."  
  
"Nuclear, huh?"  
  
"I can see that you're wary but it is a necessary evil."  
  
"I'm sure."  
  
"In the right hands it's harmless."  
  
"Well that is certainly a true statement." she smiled. Paladin Danse silently walked in and when the General noticed and shifted her gaze, the Elder reacted as well.  
  
"Elder Maxson." the Paladin announced, mimicking his stance with his hands behind his back. Coordinated, she thought, or well-trained like a dog.  
  
Maybe she was jealous or maybe the tension had corroded through her self-restraint, she could feel herself growing impatient and restless. Technically she got what she came for; the Brotherhood wasn't behind the attack and the sooner she could leave the sooner she'd be home but now she had to walk around the ship and look at bolts and screws while pretending to be interested.   
  
Sure, it was a marvel how a giant metal balloon could stay floating for months but even if she got a full report on the inner workings there was nothing she could do with that information.   
  
"Take the General for a tour of the ship." he said before turning his attention to the General. "Please enjoy. I have some business to attend to and then we'll reconvene with the details of the trade."  
  
It was obvious that he was trying to distract her but he had to be desperate for him to hide it so poorly. She found herself at a loss for words and simply nodded before she turned around to follow the Paladin through the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i need to write shorter chapters to increase the upload times. im really sorry for how long it takes between updates, i know how frustrating that can be. 
> 
> im also trying to not totally shit on the brotherhood. i dont like them at all but they have interesting characters and theyre on the more developed side in this game.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry again, the updates are way too far apart. ive had a really shitty month tho and it only got better a few days ago so i havent really been in the mind to write anything. hopefully ill kick my ass into gear and get some writing done so i can update sooner. thank you so much for reading this far! and thanks to ~ω~ for always supporting a new chapter, you make it so much easier even when it's hard<3  
> (please forgive typos or inaccuracies. i usually never play with the brotherhood so it's a lot of wikihunting going on)

The insides were more impressive than she had originally anticipated. Of course, the ship was huge from the outside but she had assumed only a small part was occupiable and yet it seemed as if she'd be able to fit a sizeable settlement and then some within the hull. She didn't really know what she'd expected, how the Brotherhood had managed to travel from DC to Boston, but it caught her off-guard how little she had thought of it.  
  
Up the ladder from where she had spoken to the Elder she was greeted with a long hallway that seemed to extend through the length of the ship. To the side of the hallway she noticed stairs leading to catwalks, indicating several levels, but the Paladin took the lead and began advancing through the hallway.  
  
The low hum of the engines was beginning to give her a headache and while the inside was certainly spacious, the narrow hallway made her throat close up and the darkness that had coated the hull made her feel vertigo. It didn't help that the air was warm and heavy like a blanket around her. Suppose it made sense that they couldn't just open a window and let the fresh air in.  
  
The Paladin stopped and turned around, extending his arm to lead her into the room on the left.  
  
"This is the infirmary. Knight-Captain Cade is in charge here. Our medical amenities on the Prydwen may not be as impressive as the ones back home but we pride ourselves in our extensive first-aid and emergency knowledge, both in the field and back here at base."  
  
The infirmary was small and she couldn't really imagine wounded soldiers on the cot. It looked more like a place you went when you had a sore throat and the nurse shoved a long cotton swab down your throat. But then again the Brotherhood had a larger base on the ground and it had to be inconvinient to fly wounded and dying soldiers up to the ship, not to mention a waste of critical time.  
  
She was given the tour of the center of their force but it was only the tip of the iceberg. Everything she saw here had to be double on the ground and she made a mental note of that.  
  
The Knight-Captain shook her hand softly and uncomfortably as if there were thousands of things he'd rather do than greet her before he resumed his duties. The Paladin silently escorted her to the other room across the hall, almost urging her out and the first thing she noticed in the room on the right was the cat on the desk.  
  
Damn, she missed cats. She'd seen a few around in the Commonwealth but they generally kept a distance and refused to let her love them. The only time she'd been near a cat was when she had to hunt down Ashes for Erin and even then the little rascal had squirmed out of her arms and back to the vault. The General resisted the urge to reach out for the cat, doing her best to keep her composure.  
  
Instead she looked around the room that reminded her a little of what the Cambridge Police Station had looked like but slightly more organized. A tall, lanky man stood with his back turned to them before he was startled to their presence.  
  
"I'm sure you've heard of our search for technical documents and this is where it is all put to great use."  
  
She took a step forward and shook his careful hand. At least he didn't treat her as if she was contagious. He gave Danse an unsure look but seemed to not care too deeply as Danses lack of response made him sigh gently before he turned neutral.  
  
"Due to our soldiers in the field and Proctor Quinlans diligent efforts we have several thousand pre-war documents in research and blueprints that could be used to benefit mankind all over the wasteland."  
  
"That's quite the collection," she said, "How long have you been collecting?"  
  
"The preservation of pre-war technology has always been a priority for the Brotherhood of Steel since it was founded just after the Great War. Elder Maxson, as you may know, is a direct descendant from the first Elder."  
  
"Huh." she said, smiling. So two centuries and people still lived in rundown shacks, selling scraps and radioactive tomatos to afford purified water. She turned her attention to the cat when it squeeked and jumped off the desk, sauntering away through the door and dissapearing behind the corner.  
  
"His name is Emmet." the Proctor said before he resumed his duties, turning his back towards them and flipping through files in a cabinet.  
  
"Cute. I'm glad cats survived everything."  
  
The General took the hint and then the lead, walking past the Paladin and down the hall. She was eager to finish the tour and go home; she knew she wasn't welcome onboard and perhaps they didn't know who she was because she could swear she was getting side-eyed by the soldiers. They had better not know who she was if they side-eyed her.  
  
And with any luck she might come across Emmet again.  
  
The hallway opened up into a seating area with a kitchen and a bar and it wasn't too hard to deduce what the purpose was. Before the Paladin could tell her how the food was only prepared with the finest ingredients and the tears of the righteous she casually spoke over her shoulder.  
  
"This is lovely. It's important to know your comrades and I imagine a lot of bonding happens here, right?"  
  
She kept her pace, walking through the diner without slowing down and the Paladin lagged behind for a moment but with a few long steps he was back to her side, crashing into her shoulder when she abruptly stopped.  
  
They had reached the power armor stations and while it didn't come as a surprise that the Brotherhood had an impressive and formidable arsenal at hand, she felt unease smack her straight in the face when the soldiers noticed her.  
  
She was stepping into the heart of the Brotherhood, the place where they rose above the common wastelander, and it made sense the soldiers would be critical of an intruder. Danse didn't seem to notice the glares, however, and instead gently guided her forward to a suit in action.  
  
"Actually most of the bonding happens in the field and between weapon and armour maintenance. It takes a certain level of trust and commitment to allow another person into your own personal defence."  
  
The frame was bare and the person inside slowly rose from their knee, heaving themselves up with a moderate amount of effort. The woman inside the frame towered over the General and stared in silence as Danse introduced them.  
  
"This is Proctor Ingram, the head of engineering. She is the one who keeps the our soldiers properly protected and our ship running smoothly."  
  
The General extended her hand to greet her but lost confidence once she saw the size of the glove on the frame. The Proctor scoffed, either in recognition or with contempt, before she nodded with a polite but strained smile.  
  
"Ma'am."  
  
The General took a moment to consider if correcting her to say General would be worth it but the woman could deck her with little to no effort and all she wanted was to get through the ship and go home. Instead she laid on the charm and smirked.  
  
"Proctor. I've heard great things about your power armors."  
  
"Only the best for the Brotherhood."  
  
The women stared at eachother for a moment, sizing eachother up. The space above them was open and the darkness did the opposite of shine behind the Proctors body making her look bigger and the General feel smaller. But the Proctor wasn't a General. And the General had the love of the people, or so she hoped, while the Brotherhood only had the occasional worship.  
  
It was pathetic; in a real fight it didn't matter what title you had but her political highground was the only thing that made her feel stronger than them.  
  
Danse was unaffected by the silence, only finding it a little weird that they were only staring at eachother but he was not one to question the behaviours of Proctors and Generals, and least of all of women. Though, he reasoned, if they didn't have anything to talk about there was no reason to keep the Proctor from working and while he appriciated the General for her work for the Commonwealth, the sooner she was done there the sooner he, and the Brotherhood in extension, could get back to work.  
  
"Well," he started, gesturing with his hand for the General to move forward, "we pride ourselves in our armor but it takes a lot of work to get it there. If you will, please."  
  
The General wasn't one to miss a social cue and the glares from the soldiers were beginning to burn a hole in her coat. She nodded at the Proctor, as politely as she muster, before she walked around the frame and through the station.  
  
Again she reminded herself that whatever they had on the ship had to be double on the ground. 6 power armors wasn't exactly grand but she wagered most of them had to be in active use.  
  
Past the power armors there was a cage with miscellaneous items scattered on a table, though mostly armour and weaponry, and a man sitting by an opening looking bored and annoyed. As soon as he saw her he frowned and almost looked angry at her intrusion.  
The Brotherhood was a cheery bunch, weren't they? she thought.  
  
Danse didn't skip a beat, however, instantly walking over to the man.  
  
"This is Proctor Teagen. He is the quartermaster and in charge of managing our equipment and munitions, keeping track and sorting the weapons and armours our troops in the field discover."  
  
"Oh yeah? I'm familiar with that." the General said. Before Ronnie Shaw had showed up and willingly accepted the job it had fallen to the General to make sure those few of her Minutemen were armed and protected. It had taken a good portion out of every week to keep track of every single weapon and bullet that trickled in from her own adventures and the armor alone made her gut knot in stress. Every piece was different and fit a different person, most of the time it had to be adjusted for the next person to wear it. "It's a necessary but thankless job. I hope the Brotherhood appriciates your efforts."  
  
"Oh yeah. They throw a party twice a week in my honor. So you're the General, huh? You took down the institute. How'd that happen?"  
  
She was surprised at how snarky he was. Compared to most of the other soldiers she'd met they didn't seem to know what humor was if it launched a nuke at them. Not to mention that most of the soldiers didn't seem to want to recognize neither her title or accomplishments. The Proctor wasn't polite about it but at least he acknowledged her and she could appriciate that. Until he continued.  
  
"No offence, but last time I checked you guys were nothing but armed farmers, not exactly the elite guard."  
  
Did they all get their insults from the Brotherhood of Steel conversational handbook?  
  
"What the Proctor is trying to say..." Danse tried to cut in.  
  
"Maybe you are in cohoots with the Institute."  
  
Had her eyebrows not been attached to her face they would've gone through the ceiling and she couldn't really contain the smile. Who the hell used the word 'cohoots'? But while his theory was definitely rich and out of line, was it possible he knew about... Father?  
  
He was the quartermaster and he had the most contact with the general populace; if anyone knew anything it would eventually end up in his hands.  
  
"Proctor Teagan." Danse interrupted. "That behaviour is inappropriate and-"  
  
"No. It's alright." the General said. "I kinda prefer it when people are honest about their dislike."  
  
"Well that's mighty generous of you." the Proctor said. He seemed to have lost all interest in both their conversation and her presence and he resumed his relaxed position on the counter, chin in hand.  
  
Danse frowned so deeply his bushy brows almost touched before he stepped aside to let her move forward. Behind the Proctors little cage, (she'd probably be moody too if that's how she had to spend her days), there were stairs leading both up and down and she understood that they had reached the end of the ship.  
  
"I must apologize for Proctor Teagans insolence. I assure you, he will be reprimanded."  
  
"No need on my behalf. Can't say I appriciate his tone but I've heard worse from my own." she joked. "So this concludes the tour?"  
  
"Not quite. There's a section above where we just walked through and a section below it. The section below is cramped and it's mainly just a storage but I'll take you through the top section. We'll end up at the front again, I'm sure the Elder is almost done."  
  
"Alright. Up it is." the General said, taking the lead. "I've got to say, you sure know how to cram stuff in here. Seems like you can find just about anything in here."  
  
They reached the top of the stairs and the sight sent a chill down her spine. There were several gurneys with the bodies of supermutants and feral ghouls and she was suddenly happy that the air was filled with the smell of warm oil and hot metal instead of the odor of the corpses.  
  
"And then some."  
  
"Yes. I'm not well-versed with the scientific branches of the Brotherhood but there are some biological differences to the creatures here compared to the ones back home. Of course the Brotherhood has always believed in being prepared and this time it paid off very well."  
  
The General walked towards a gurney with the exposed skeleton of a gen-1 synth and she felt sick thinking that the pure robotic gen-1 synth was no different than a gen-3 synth to the Brotherhood. She wasn't fool enough to think that the synths were above faults but if they didn't cause any trouble, if they only wanted to live... Who knew what kind of witchhunt the Brotherhood would've gone on if the Institute hadn't been declared defeated? Who knew what kind of damage they'd do if they had the information the Institute had died with?  
  
The robots were one thing; as far as she had come to understand they were a literal mindless army but the newer ones were human enough. The only way to really tell a gen-3 apart from a human was post-mortem and the Brotherhood had to know that. Had they ever tried to find one? She couldn't see anything nearby but...  
  
Anything onboard had to be double on the ground.  
  
Paladin Danse led the General to a cage with two molerats frantically gnawing at the bars. A woman was standing nearby, scribbling notes on a clipboard as if it was amazing that the caged animals wanted to get out.  
  
"This is Senior Scribe Neriah, the head of the biological research. She specializes in finding biological advantages against our enemies, finding their weaknesses and such."  
  
The Senior Scribe turned her attention briefly to the General, barely registering that she had company, before she went back to observing the molerats.  
  
"Didn't know we were taking in strays."  
  
"Senior Scribe, this is the General of the Minutemen."  
  
The womans nose scrunched up trying to remember if she'd ever heard about them but decided it wasn't interesting enough, finishing her note and walking away towards a desk.  
  
"Well, welcome onboard. Hope you have fun."  
  
Paladin Danse turned towards the General, bowing his head slightly in shame. If the Senior Scribe wasn't aware of how oblivious she sounded, the Paladin sure was. Though, the General hadn't expected any other kind of behaviour and to be perfectly honest with herself her Minutemen weren't exactly the bright and brilliant of the world.  
  
"Right, well... maybe we should..." the General started.  
  
"Of course, this way." the Paladin finished.  
  
The makeshift lab had been above the cage with the quartermaster and beyond the lab there were only two extended catwalks above the workshop. From above it looked calm and comfortable. She was far from a technical woman but she could appriciate hunkering down to tinker with something, she used to practice on a radio with Sturges back in Sanctuary. Kept her hands and mind busy.    
  
As they walked across the catwalk she almost felt jealous. Things would've been different, had she accepted the Paladins offer outside the police station. Nevermind the obvious differences; if she became an initiate and not the General the Institute would most likely still be at large and a few dozen settlements would still lie abandoned. But maybe she'd be happy, oblivious to the world, in the workshop next "brother".  
  
It was selfish, of course it was, but she spent a lot of time doing nothing but worry and stress and plan against the inevitable. Did she regret her choices? Not even close. But over and over since she emerged from the vault she made choices that had consequences for everyone. Choices that shaped the world around her. Choices she wouldn't have to make if she was just an initiate. Choices that could soon start a war between the Brotherhood and the Minutemen.  
  
Past the space above the workshop they came across beds and footlockers. It seemed like a standard soldier bunker of sorts; plain and organized. Impersonal. The only thing standing out was a collection of color on the floor near one of the beds. She couldn't make out the pattern before the Paladin began to speak again.  
  
"This, as you can see, is where our soldiers on the ship rest. Nothing glamorous but it suits all our needs."  
  
"Not a lot of room for privacy."  
  
"All our needs and requirements are met."  
  
"Well, that's... good."  
  
They walked across the rest of the platform until they reached the end of the ship, or rather, reached the front again.  
  
"This concludes the tour then?" she asked, taking a sweeping gaze around the ship. It had been more than she expected and yet nothing spectacular. A diner, a medbay, a place to sleep... it had the usual amenities. Maybe the workshop with six full fledged power armor stations and the suspicious lab of dissection was a bit much but it was more or less a functioning hotel, in lack for better words. There didn't seem to be anything too different about the Brotherhood when she caught the glimpse of a very short person being scolded like a child. Except...  
  
"There is also the Command Deck and the private rooms of the higher ups, but I'm sure you understand why I can't-"  
  
"Is that a child?"  
  
Danse followed her eyes towards a young boy staring defiantely in the ground. He couldn't be more than 8 or 9.  
  
"A squire. Yes."  
  
"Didn't you guys come here for war? With the Institute? You... brought a child with you to the war?"  
  
"No. Absolutely not. Squires are not allowed to engage in any combat. They are strictly here in educational purposes." Paladin Danse looked offended. "I am aware that you don't hold the Brotherhood in the highest regard but surely... You would never assume we would bring a child to harm, would you?"  
  
Shit. Things were about to go belly-up if she didn't maneuver this properly. It was shocking to see a child among things that reeked of war and death but when push came to shove, those kids had to be safer up there in the Prydwen than down on the ground. But the backup plan... Thank god the General had tried to play it safe.  
  
It made her nauseous beyond anything she had ever felt before to think that the only real danger to those kids had been the Minutemen themselves. At least now she knew that plan was a bust.  
  
"No! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply... I just didn't expect it. You rarely see kids at all in the commonwealth and I just kinda... got the warship detail hammered into me."  
  
"Right..." the Paladin said. He still looked suspicious and while, sure, they'd probably never harm kids but there was no way in hell she'd ever let them get near Shaun. There was no real way of telling where the human in them ended and the hivemind began.  
  
"Well, I suppose I understand your apprehension, given you're a mother. But please, understand that the Brotherhood takes care of our own. It's just imperative that they learn early."  
  
She smiled and nodded, pretending that she understood what he was saying but in truth she was still appalled. When they had arrived and she'd seen the great ship arrive over the corner of the Commonwealth they had proclaimed peace but you didn't teach children the ways of war if that's not what you were after.  
  
Danse still seemed wary at her outburst but accepted her explanation, leading her back down to where the tour had began. The Elder was waiting, neutral and unreadable, with his hands locked behind his back and the Paladin silently left after nodding at the Elder and bowing lightly at the General.  
  
"So how did you find my ship?" he asked her.  
  
"She's stunning. I'd lie if I said I wasn't a little jealous." she said with a wink and, for all intents and purposes, it was true. The Minutemen didn't have much in the means of defence or offence and the Brotherhood had a literal airship dedicated to it.  
  
The Elder took a step to the side and gestured towards a door, leading her into what looked like a small, simple apartment. It was petty and she was far from proud of it but jealousy found its way to twist her guts around. She assumed it was his room, his personal space, and while she felt surprisingly happy to have been invited she also hated how clean and proper it was.  
  
There was only so much you could do to scrub decades worth of mirelurk nesting from your floor.  
  
He invited her to sit on a couch while he turned his back to pour them some drinks. Maybe business was best dealt with with a little buzz going on but it felt awkward and stale. She didn't want to drink anymore, the little she'd had earlier had been more than enough, but declining was unintentionally rude. People nowadays had stronger stomachs than what they used to or maybe this was the only way he knew how to entertain guests, straight from the Elder Handbook.  
  
The Elder handed her the drink before he sat down opposite of her. He seemed to study her face to get a read on her but she wasn't sure what he was looking for. The only thing they had left to "discuss" was the trade neither of them really wanted or needed but there was something else too. She felt it like a tingle in her abdomen, an alarm set off by the way he was hesitating.  
  
"So..." she began, breaking the silence. "What kind of produce are you looking for? We don't have anything fancy but what we grow is healthy and strong which is... basically what you look for, I suppose."  
  
She shrugged with a smile, crossing her legs, leaving the drink on the table between them. He took a breath and raised his eyebrows in consideration, nodding slightly as he was settling on the offer. Produce was worth plenty in the wasteland because everyone had to eat and her settlements had grown to be the major manufacturer. In a way the General controlled most of the Commonwealth outside of the settlements as a lot of people relied on the food the farms produced.  
  
It was kind of depressing to think about how the world had stagnated after the war. It'd been 200 years and things weren't beginning to look proper civilized until now.  
  
"We have a few documents on agriculture that may benefit you and with your permission I could send a few soldiers to teach your settlements how to better fortify your defences. Would your side of the trade continue after our contribution?"  
  
She felt like he was holding out on her, surely they had better to offer than that, but it was only a cover anyway. As long as they didn't expect to fill themselves with tatos and gourds every day it wasn't really anything that could compromise the stability of her settlements.  
  
"We can supply you with 4 crates of fresh produce biweekly for the remainder of your stay in the Commonwealth." Maybe she was being too forward but hopefully he wasn't so thickheaded he couldn't take the hint. "Or does the Brotherhood not feel like your mission is complete, despite the defeat of the Institute?"  
  
The twitch in his upper lip was almost unnoticeable but she still saw it, smirking and reprimanding herself on the inside. There was no need to push it, not when she was so close to getting out of there and back to safety, but there was something so delicious in knowing she could get under his skin, even if only briefly.    
  
"The Institute is no longer a threat, no, but there are many abominations roaming the land of the Commonwealth. The Brotherhood is-, and I don't mean to speak any ill of your soldiers, -better equipped at... cleaning up, if you will."  
  
"I'm sure the Brotherhood is excellent in battle but my men are trained. I appriciate the gesture but we can manage on our own, there's no need to worry."  
  
The General smiled so sweetly she felt sick with herself but there was no real way of telling them straight to just fuck off. The effort of behaving politely and admirably was beginning to exhaust her and it didn't help when he continued the Brotherhood spiel.  
  
"Is that the truth? I don't mean to sully your reputation but there are rumours that you consort with ghouls and synths alike. I'm sure I don't have to explain the implication."  
  
If the General didn't already have the patience of a saint she did now, resisting the urge to slap the beard off of him. What fucking implication? That she treated people with respect based on their intent, regardless of their origin or affliction?  
  
She wanted to hurt him but losing her cool now and arguing for something she knew he loathed could be a disastrous mistake. Of course she had to stand for her cause, and she would, but it wouldn't be easy navigating the political minefield he had laid out before them.  
  
"I'm not sure what implication you're specifically referring to. I am well aware of the Brotherhoods stance on people who aren't... human, in lack for better words, but the Minutemen are, have always been and always will be..." she paused, taking the time to feel the weight of the words in her heart. She was borrowing them, stealing them to be specific, but they were the true and made her believe in the future. "... Of the people, for the people."  
  
"That is a wonderful sentiment but they aren't people."  
  
"And that's... definitely an opinion. With all due respect, Elder Maxson, whether you believe these people are human enough or not is, for one, not for you to decide and two, not up to you to deal with. I'm sure you have the best of the Commonwealth at heart but ultimately this is my Commonwealth and I don't appriciate your prosecution of my people."  
  
"They are not people and they are dangerous. Perhaps you simply don't see it after your time in the vault but the ghouls simply are not human. They are creatures deformed and twisted by radiation and are at all times seconds away from becoming feral and killing everything in its path. The synths are made, literally created, to murder and infiltrate. Do you not know of the families destroyed by the Institute and their synths? Of the people who were kidnapped and murdered to aid their agenda?"  
  
"I know damn well what the Institute did and I stopped them. I killed them and stopped them from hurting my people and for the record, Elder, synths didn't ask to be made. They didn't beg for creation and they didn't chose to do what they did. They did what they were brainwashed and programmed to do, not unlike-..." She stopped herself before it got too far but the Elder narrowed his eyes, finishing the sentence for himself.  
  
"And for the matter of ghouls I don't understand your reasons at all. It is true that they could become feral at any time, nobody truly knows how it works, but that's human. They are twisted and marred by the radiation but their only fault is that they survived. That's what you're judging them on. They just want to live, just like everyone else, why does that bother you?"  
  
"Because they are not natural! They are abominations and a threat to humanity. You can't seriously be so naive as to think anything else."  
  
"For someone wanting the best for humanity you seem awfully ignorant of what it means to be human. For the past 200 years these ghouls have done nothing but their best for the Commonwealth, only failing because of sentiments such as yours. They are people, by the truest definition of the word."  
  
"I can understand why you might think that way but you don't understand the danger-"  
  
"No, you don't understand!" The General was losing her inhibition and she was starting to not care. How dared he? Who the hell was he to decide the definition of human? He sat on his throne in the sky, ignorant and unaware what it was like to be just one of the people trying to survive, and he had the audacity to look down on the people who made his world go around?  
  
"Maybe you're right. Maybe I don't understand the Commonwealth since I haven't been around for that long but these people have. These ghouls have survived 200 years and I don't think you really understand what that means. These are people I could've seen at the store. People I met on the street, people I talked to at work. They understand the world better than you could ever think of because they were there when it fell apart and they are here to rebuild it."  
  
The General almost started crying, feeling the tears burn at her eyes but she fought them down, refusing to give him that privilege.  
  
"They are working their asses off every day to help eachother see another but you're sitting here, as if that means nothing, telling me you don't think they deserve to live. You want to take these men and women and kill them because they survived a war they didn't want in the first place and if that's genuinely what you're here for, if that's why you haven't left, I need to respectfully ask you to leave."  
  
The silence was deafening but welcome in her ears. It seemed she had burned all the bridges without really thinking but at the same time she felt relief. She didn't want to lie or omit the truth of her convictions and she did not want to stroke this mans ego.  
  
She didn't want a war with the Brotherhood but if that's where the chips landed then so be it. There was a line in the ground between them and she refused to cross it for his sake when he didn't mean anything to her but her people did.  
  
But instead of a rebuttal there was only more silence. The Elder was tense, she could see his jaw clench as if he was biting down hard as to prevent a proper fight between them. How angry had she made him? Was he fighting the urge to hurt her or... no. There was something else, another reason. He was holding back and the defeat in his eyes told her she was about to find out why.  
  
Whatever it was it was torturing him. He looked like he was seriously suffering and she was sure he didn't often have to bite his tongue instead of argue until he won the battle. Did people even argue against him? Or did they all just fall in line with whatever he said?  
  
"I apologize. It was not my intention to upset you. These matters are very serious, as you know, and we clearly have different opinions. I am not here to tell you how to lead your people."  
  
He established eyecontact and his eyes were intense. She couldn't look away and it felt like he was burrowing into her skull, silencing her before she could reply.  
  
"I must be frank with you. I have a delicate request that I can't ask of anyone else and if you choose to not help I need your silence. You came here seeking answers about an attack on one of your settlements and I maintain that the Brotherhood was not behind it. But the men you have witnesses seeing conversing with the attacker was indeed Brotherhood personnel in civilan attire."  
  
He paused to collect himself and she felt the involuntary knot in her stomach come back. At least he wouldn't wage war on her for her outburst, he needed her for something. But it was entirely possible he would ask for something she couldn't give and that would suck for both of them.  
  
"There is a reason the Brotherhood has remained in the Commonwealth. I was hoping we weren't that suspicious but I'm glad you came to us with your concern. In truth, I need your help finding a woman named Madison Li. Doctor Madison Li."  
  
The name was familiar but she couldn't place the name in any settlement. She was a doctor, was she perhaps an associate to Doctor Sun in Diamond City? No, she remembered Doc Crockers breakdown very well and there had been no woman involved. Had Doctor Amari mentioned her? Or wait... A doctor the Brotherhood was looking for but couldn't find even with all their resources...  
  
"Doctor Li worked with the Brotherhood back in the Capital Wasteland but left to pursue a different goal after she was finished with us. We followed her trail here where she dissapeared a few years ago and we have reason to believe-"  
  
Oh, _oh no_.  
  
"- that she may have been working with the Institute."  
  
Oh yes, now she remembered. The woman who had introduced her to her own son, her not-actually-hers son. The woman who had raised the child, who was now at the Castle waiting for the General to come home, in a lab as a sick experiment on her real sons volition.  
  
The General tried to keep her face neutral and unbiased but the anxiety ran through her, cold and wet. For all she knew the Doctor was dead, trapped in the rubble below the C.I.T ruins. She had issued the evacuation order so it was a possibility she'd gotten out but there had also been a lot of bodies on the floor before the Minutemen teleported out themselves.  
  
"I understand what you must be thinking but Doctor Li is a brilliant woman. We're certain she only sought out the Institute to further her own research and since you were the last to leave the Institute before you destroyed it you're the only one who might know."  
  
Of all the things she had expected to come out of the meeting, this sure as fuck hadn't been it.  
  
"Do you think there's a chance she was down there when it exploded? Is there perhaps a way she got out before it happened? Do you remember seeing her at all? She must be in her early 60s by now, asian and about your height. I was a young boy when I met her so my memories aren't that reliable but there aren't many women like her. If you met her, you'd know."  
  
The Elder fell silent and his gaze lessened, giving her subconscious space to breathe. What did he want with her? What did he know? Was it possible that Shaun was in trouble? No, not really. He wouldn't ask her if she knew where the Doctor was if he thought in any way he needed her to get to Shaun. But what work had they done together in the past? There were too many questions she wanted to ask but he was looking at her, expecting a reply.  
  
"I... I may have seen her, I guess. There were a few female scientists there."  
  
"Do you have any reason to believe that she may have survived the explosion?"  
  
Could she tell him about the evacuation order without him freaking out about escaped synths? Maybe that was a detail best kept to herself.  
  
"Well, sure. I suppose. It's possible she saw us and found us suspicious enough to leave before we got organized."  
  
He smiled and it was meant to be friendly but it felt nothing but unnerving to her. Madison Li... She'd been Shauns more-or-less guardian. He'd been her project and if there was something wrong with him... Any question the General had, the Doctor could answer.  
  
"It's small but it's something. Can I ask for your help in locating her?"  
  
As luck would have it, finding her would be pretty damn swell for the General too. But she knew why she wanted to find her, what did the Brotherhood want with her? After all they'd said about the Institute it didn't make a whole lot of sense that they'd want to track down one of their scientists. Though at the same time it made perfect sense. For better or worse she had to have valuable information not found anywhere else, information the Brotherhood could never hope to find as technical documents in abandoned facilities.  
  
"What exactly do you need from her, if I may?"  
  
"There is an old project in the Brotherhood of Steel that she was instrumental in completing and we need her help to continue the work. I am not at liberty to tell you anything else, I hope you understand."  
  
Her gaze dropped to the table where her drink had remained untouched. So they wanted her for some kind of project. It had to be important for them if they stayed in the Commonwealth just to look for her, even more so since they knew she had interacted with the Institute. There was no way he'd just tell her what the project was so she ignored that detail for now, focusing on the Doctor herself.  
  
She could use finding this woman for Shaun. If her suspicions were true and Shaun would forever be a child then perhaps the Doctor could do something, fix him, so that he could live normally. Maybe she couldn't do anything given that Shaun was unique for a synth but if there was any chance at all the General had to take it.  
  
The trick would be finding her before the Brotherhood and then, somehow, keeping her to herself.  
  
"So." the Elder said, breaking the silence. "Can I count on you?"  
  
She grabbed the drink by the table and took a swig, letting it burn on the way down. If the Brotherhood found her first she could kiss Shauns future goodbye. He was adored among the Minutemen but in the next few years, if he remained the same, that attitude was bound to change. And what would happen when the General herself grew older and inevitably died? The Brotherhood might need the Doctor but the General needed her more. All she had to do was find her first.  
  
"Yeah," she said. "You can count on me."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well this isn't like... long overdue or anything :D holy shit im sorry. but at least it's long? i really hope i can do preston justice, he deserves the absolute world. 
> 
> as usual: comments and kudos put you in the hall of fame in my heart and if you see a typo or if something doesnt make sense, please forgive me or let me know so i can correct it.

It felt good to be home. Hancock was back in his office, kicking back on his couch with a cigarette in his mouth, half-heartedly listening to Fahrenheit fill him on on what'd happend while he'd been away. There'd been a couple of fights, as usual, and some supermutants had tried to advance but thanks to Fahrs planning and strategical eye they'd been defeated long before they got to the Goodneighbor neighborhood.   
  
A few jealous spats had played out at the Third Rail, someone tried to haggle with KL-E-0 and a few traders had passed through with the usual rumors to share. It was as if he'd never left.   
  
It wasn't like the Castle lacked action; plenty of people wanted a piece of the cake without giving anything back and drama had to be defused on the regular, not to mention all the idiot raiders thinking they could challenge the Good General. Hancock snickered at the thought, earning a confused look from his bodyguard who only a second later shook her head and continued.   
  
The General had hated it at first, thinking the nickname was pretentious and inaccurate but it was good to have a legend attached to your name. Something that reminded people of what she could do. A promise to those in need and a threat to those who defied her.  
   
Hancock had changed Goodneighbor for the better a long time ago but people still remembered, people knew. Seeing the red coat and tricorner walk towards you was like feeling the ground shake and that was a privilege he could live well off of for years to come. Regardless of what she thought of the nickname, it did her good. Might even get her a vacation every once in a while.   
  
He would've gladly dissapeared into a vacation-daydream but Fahrenheit kicked his boot off the table, startling him back into the present. She gave him her infamous glare, making him uncomfortably sit up straight to listen to her.  
  
"Are you back with me now? This is the part you need to pay attention to."  
  
Hancock scoffed and placed a hand on his chest, acting insulted.   
  
"Me? Not paying attention? Why, there ain't nothin' I care for more than the squabbles of my people."  
  
Her expression turned sour and she reached for a cigarette, putting down the report she'd been reading from.   
  
"Maybe if you listened a little more to the squabbles we could've avoided the Bobbi situation."  
  
Hancock felt an initial spark of anger but quickly smothered it. It was a cheap shot but she wasn't wrong, Bobbi had had it in for Hancock and he hadn't found out until the General had roused his attention and by the time it all unraveled he had no choice but to snuff Bobbi out.   
  
"Alright." he sighed and reached for a mentat from the tin on the table. "Fun's over. What's up?"  
  
"You're back."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"You're alone."  
  
"Hey, it's my damn town. I can come back when I want to."  
  
"Ever since you got together with that General you've done nothing but follow her around like a dog. But she's not here. Which means something has happened or will happen and I don't like not knowing."  
  
"What the fuck, Fahrenheit? Why would you call me that?"  
  
"Don't change the subject."  
  
It hurt to hear it but he couldn't exactly deny it. He did follow the General around, in a way, but he had always considered that they were traveling together as a team, not as a master and a puppy. Was that how people saw him now?  
  
"Look," the bodyguard said, softer this time. "Whatever goes on between you two, it's nobody's business and you know I don't care. But if you want me running this town while you're gone I need to know everything."  
  
Hancock leaned back in the couch, smoothing out his feelings. There'd be time to deal with that later.   
  
"I'm waitin' on a Railroad agent." Hancock said quietly. He trusted the Neighborhood Watchers to not eavesdrop but thin walls could only filter so much. "I gotta find this guy who might have information I need."  
  
"You? Information you need? What information? What guy?"  
  
"Jeez, fine. Ya caught me." he said, shaking his hands in mock defeat. "The General needs 'im and I don't know what information. All I know is that an agent is gonna end up here an' tell me where to find the guy."  
  
Fahrenheit put the cigarette out in the ash tray on the table, letting the final smoke gently float between them.   
  
"You're running her errands now?"  
  
"It ain't like that." He was near growling now, getting angrier by the second and if she kept shoving him the way she was he was bound to push back.   
  
"Take it easy. You know I got your back but somebody's gotta lay it down for you and I doubt it'll be her. There are talks among the people, whispers. They feel like you've abandoned them for her. Now, you know I'm quick to shut that shit down and the Watch is with us but they keep hearing of all the great and magical things you do with your girlfriend and they never hear it from you. You're getting disconnected from your people, Hancock, and it's only a matter of time before we got another Bobby or Finn on our hands."  
  
"Heard anythin' concrete?"  
  
"Not yet. But if nothing changes there will be."  
  
Hancock settled into silence, chewing through the last of the mentat that had been pressed against his cheek.   
  
On one hand, traveling with the General felt like something that'd been missing in his life. Going out there to make a difference, getting his hands dirty for something good... and with her? God, the things he would do just to be by her side. But could he really risk sacrificing his town just to keep up with her? Goodneighbor had been what shaped him into the man he was, without it he was nothing.   
  
And shit, he had to be practical. He had seen his fair share of lovers falling apart, just because things were good now didn't mean they always would be and no matter how inlove he was, how good it felt just to see her, it could all end over nothing. Besides, he was a ghoul. Ultimately he'd have a future without her regardless of how well their lives together went. Without her and without Goodneighbor, what would he be then?  
  
"You didn't say why you're alone."  
  
"What?"   
  
"If you're here to find a guy for her, why isn't she here?"  
  
"She'll be here."  
  
"Why isn't she here now?"  
  
Hancock sighed and leaned back to rest his head against the couch, covering his face with his hands. Man, she was riding him hard this time. Didn't help that she wasn't exactly exaggerating either. He knew she manipulated him and usually he didn't care, most of the time it was for the good of the town and he'd agree with her anyway, but she was striking a bit too close to home.  
  
"She's tryin' to find a way into the Brotherhood of Steel."  
  
"She's associating with those guys now?"  
  
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? She's there to get information. It ain't anything."  
  
"What information?"  
  
Hancock stood up and stretched before walking around the couch to find something to drink. Water would be nice but a beer would be even better for the incoming third-degree.  
  
"She might have reason to believe the Brotherhood staged an attack on one of her settlements, y'know the one, with the ro-"  
  
"Staged an attack?"  
  
"Yeah, apparently some guy saw another guy talk to one of the dead guys who attacked and the guy looked beefy, like one of those sol-"  
  
"And she's doing what now, poking around the yao guai den? Is she out of her fucking mind?"  
  
"Hey, stop interrupting me. I ain't too fond of the idea either but you ain't seen her in action. If anyone can do it, she can."  
  
He found an old bottle of lukewarm gwinnett stout in a cabinet and quickly knocked the cap off on the counter to take a deep swig. At this rate he could do well with some vodka to down but he ran out last time he was back and for some reason he hadn't bothered to go down to the Third Rail to replace it.   
  
"And if she can't do it we're all fucked, right?"  
  
"Hey, calm down. It's gonna be fine."  
  
"I thought she was smarter than this."  
  
"Would you relax? What's the deal, anyway? We ain't Minutemen."  
  
"No, you're just fucking their General." Hancock snapped his head in her direction, warning her with just his eyes to not push her luck. She got the hint and took a deep breath. "Come on, Hancock. We're all guilty by association and you know damn well those assholes would love to burn this place down with us in it. All they need is a spark and she could be it."  
  
"It ain't a sure thing. We don't know if they did it, that's why she's there."  
  
"You think they'd just admit it?"  
  
"Fuck no." he said, returning to his seat. "I hate the plan as much as you do, Fahr, and I did my fair share of objecting. But her pokin' around to see if we're safe or not is a whole fuckin' lot better than startin' a war we can't win."  
  
"And if we're not safe?"  
  
"We have a plan for that."  
  
"No, they have a plan for that. This isn't her royal majestys castle. We don't have high walls and canons to defend ourselves with."  
  
"I wouldn't let anything happen to this town and neither would she."  
  
"It's not up to either one of you. If the Brotherhood starts making house calls at least they have a fighting chance. We got nothing to even make a dent in their armour."  
  
Fahrenheit was calming down, reclining in her seat to think. It'd been a lot to take in and Hancock realized he had to check in much more often, maybe even going so far as to establish some kind of radioconnection for a regular contact when he was away. Kent had a pretty sweet setup and it would probably do the guy some good to be included in some of the 'hero' shenanigans but from a safe position.   
  
But then maybe the General could simply agree to spend some more time in Goodneighbor with him. It was her home too, just as the Castle was home for him.   
  
"Hey, Fahr." Hancock said, leaning forward to tap her knee. Her eyes flicked over to him, drawn out from deep thought and he knew the answer before he asked. "You okay?"  
  
"Yeah." she said slowly, still thinking in full speed about defending Goodneighbor. "You should head down now."  
  
"Ya could come with. Take a nice lil break?"  
  
"No." she said and he could tell by the look in her eyes he was losing her by the second. Defending Goodneighbor came like a second nature to Fahrenheit and while the threat of a Brotherhood assault on the Goodneighbor walls was without a doubt stressful, she was in her true element.   
  
He placed the rest of his beer on the table infront of her before he walked out of his office, straightening his frock and adjusting his hat, casually descending the stairs of the Old State House. The Watchmen nodded as he passed them, offering small smiles when Hancock tipped his hat for them.   
  
Down at the Third Rail the people were waiting for him with booze and chems flowing in abundance. Everyone wanted to hear what he'd been up to; what monsters he'd slain and the people he'd saved alongside the Good General and he found himself repeating the same story to the same people a few times that night. Whether it was because they were drunk of their ass or not paying attention he wasn't sure but it didn't matter. His people welcomed him home dearly and he realized he had missed the attention, no matter how vain he sounded like. At the Castle he was the mayor of one of the major Commonwealth towns but in Goodneigbor... in Goodneighbor he was _the_ mayor.   
  
It felt good to be home.

 

* * *

  
  
The mood at the Castle was chipper and peaceful. Preston had spent the morning briefing Ronnie Shaw on the Generals plan and she'd had a few choice words to describe the Generals idea of proceeding carefully but the recruits were blissfully unaware of the fight that could be coming. As far as they were concerned the only thing they had to worry about was the occasional raider gang and supermutants in the path between the settlements.   
  
He was heading to the kitchen to have a quick breakfast before he was due at Spectacle Island to oversee the new recruits in their training. The plan was to see if the recruits could handle the beginners program or if it had to be adjusted, perhaps going as far as splitting the program into two sections; one for those who already had some sort of combat training and one for those who had no experience at all.  
  
Shaw had said it was a waste of time and resources and in a way he agreed, it would without a doubt take more time and effort to train half the recruits at a slower pace but in his own opinion it was a worthy investment and the General had agreed. It was better to give a little more at the start instead of losing people to inexperience.   
  
Shaun would accompany him and while it was under the pretence that he was too young to be left at the Castle with little to no supervision, it was clear to most of the Minutemen that the Generals son was too much of a target without the General, the Mayor or the Senior Officer to protect him. Word travelled fast and there were people out there who would love nothing more than to hit the General where it hurt the most.   
  
As Preston had slept lightly after a night of patrolling the perimeter of the Castle with a few recruits, quizzing them for things to look out for among the rubble and the dark, he was late to the breakfast. There was more than enough mirelurk omelette to fill him twice over but it had gone cold and clammy, qualities that weren't exactly enhancing the experience.   
  
He ate it quickly and in silence. Wasteland food was cooked to fill a stomach and provide enough nutrients to sustain a body, not too taste good, and there was no point in drawing out the experience. He picked at the food, making sure to at least chew it thoroughly, thinking about what the General had confided in him.   
  
The Institute had been filled with sick bastards so it wouldn't be too improbable to think they'd create a child that couldn't grow. As far as he knew Shaun had also been the first child synth and he could find some comfort in that. At least there wasn't a bunch of people trapped in childrens bodies but it was still unnerving to think about it. What had been the point?   
  
He knew little of the inner workings of the Institute but he knew they had been wrong in so many things. All that potential to improve the world, to heal and restart humanity, and they had spent it going back instead of forward. All that technology, all that science... it could've made a real difference to the people of the Commonwealth. It could've saved people. Instead they had played god and tried creating life only to then abuse that life.   
  
Preston drank some water and sighed. Maybe he had been naive in thinking there wouldn't be victims on both sides of the story. A part of him had hoped that the Institute would've been pure supervillains in their labcoats and underground facility but there had been families, children. Civilians. Even the synths had been victims, created by people who didn't love them and thrown into a life of submission and degradation.   
  
The Institute had been a force that had to be dealt with and the Commonwealth was better off for it. He couldn't help but to think of the casualties but at the same time he knew they had done what they could. The people who had chosen to surrender and evacuate had been free to go but the people who stayed behind and fought back had made their choice. He had done all he could and he had to believe that that was enough.   
  
He scraped the last of the egg off of the plate and swallowed it down with the rest of his water. After cleaning his dishes and making sure the leftover food was collected and stored for later he made his way across the courtyard to find Shaun. Usually he spent is time in the workshop but sometimes he helped out with the crops and it was there Preston found the kid.   
  
One of the older settlers, Martha, was sitting on her knees next to the tatos and she seemed engrossed in conversation with Shaun who looked like he was ready to go right back to sleep. When Preston came closer he heard her mention that patting the dirt next to the stalk would keep the plant standing but it was important to leave the surrounding soil soft so the roots could grow uninhibited. Everyone seemed to have their own family secret to the perfect harvest and no one was too shy to share.   
  
"...now my grandfather couldn't grow a carrot to save his life but he knew his tatos. If you understand how to treat the plant right it'll reward you. Just be patient and-"  
  
"Good morning, Martha. How are the crops this morning?"  
  
"Oh, Mr. Garvey!" she said, jerking around to face him. She immediately smiled when she saw him and heaved herself up to stand. "It's so good to see you. The crops are the happiest I've ever seen them."  
  
"I'm pleased to hear that. How are you?"   
  
"I'm just fine, thank you. And you? No trouble brewing on the horizon, I hope?"  
  
"Nothing the Minutemen can't handle, ma'am. I'm just here to pick up Shaun for a little field trip."  
  
Preston tipped his hat forward for her and she bashfully turned her shoulders.   
  
"Oh, you're a good man, Mr. Garvey."  
  
Martha ruffled Shauns hair, unintentionally leaving little specks of dirt on his head.   
  
"Are you ready to leave?" Preston asked, turning his attention towards Shaun.   
  
"Yes, sir." he said. Shaun turned towards Martha who was still smiling like she had just seen the sun for the first time in days. "Thank you for showing me how to care for the tatos, Mrs. Martha."  
  
"Sure thing, honey. You two behave now."  
  
"We will. Bye Mrs. Martha!"  
  
Martha sunk back to her knees to work on the next plant as Shaun and Preston walked out the gates towards the boat that would carry them to the island. Preston tried to compare what Shaun looked like to when he had first seen him a couple of months ago and while a few months certainly wasn't a long time children still grew fast. As far as he could tell there was no discernible difference but on the other hand it's not like he had been paying attention to any changes.   
  
But perhaps if he tried too hard he'd only see what wasn't there and that wouldn't be any better. Shaun was a good kid and people cared for him and... that was what mattered.   
  
The trip to the island was surprisingly short as the wind was in their favor for once. It was a small help but enough to shave off a few minutes and Prestons arms were thankful. Once they docked at the island a Minutemen was there to recieve them, immediately putting Preston in workmode and Shaun took the opportunity to wander. He was sure no one would miss him anyway and the boy initially set his course for the workshop but instead he chose to continue to the beach behind it.   
  
The training ground didnt start until about a third into the island and the area of the beach Shaun had been drawn to was safe. In any case there usually was some indication that a team was using the area and every start and finish was signaled with a bell in the center of the island. Things on the island were quiet and Shaun didn't feel like he was in danger.   
  
He walked along the shore and listened to the waves lapping at the sand. It was serene in a way, comforting, but way out on the island where there were no other sounds than the water pushing against the sand it felt like a hot smothering blanket. It almost hurt his ears to listen to it and it felt like he couldn't escape it. Had there ever been a time where he didn't have to hear the ocean? Yes, he thought there had been but he could only remember glimpses before it dissapeared.   
  
He remembered clean rooms and white walls, almost blindingly bright, but the memories were too short to make sense out of and he didn't really feel comfortable in those moments. Maybe that's where he had lived with his mom and dad, back from before the bombs. The General rarely talked about it and Shaun didn't want to ask. She always looked upset when he asked about his dad and their life from before. He could understand that she missed Nate but so did he. He had lost a lot too.  
  
Shaun sat down on the sand just out of reach from the waves. If he leaned forward he could touch the water and each wave threatened to spill over unto his feet. Why did he feel like something was wrong?  
  
Granted, he knew his mom and the Minutemen were important people in the Commonwealth and the good never came without the bad but there was something else bugging him. It was the way some of the Minutemen kept their distance, the way Mister Hancock, Preston and Sturges always stayed closer than they needed and the way the General sometimes came in to his room at night with tears in her eyes.   
  
In the distance, just next to the Castle, he could see the great big airship the Brotherhood had arrived in. Apparently they had made a grand entrance but for some reason Shaun couldn't quite remember seeing it. He couldn't remember seeing the ship moving through the air like a whale among the clouds and he couldn't remember where he had been when it had happened. It had just... appeared there, to him. It was just suddenly another place in the wasteland.   
  
And now his mother was there to "talk".   
  
He was young but he wasn't stupid. It was obvious he was different from the others although he didn't know how but he was safe with the Minutemen, with his mother. But he couldn't fight the nagging feeling that maybe the reason she went to the airship was because of him. Maybe she thought about sending him away to them, turning him into a Brotherhood soldier or maybe she just took any reason to stay away from the Castle where he was.  
  
Maybe she didn't love him anymore.  
  
Shaun felt the tears burning behind his eyes and while he furiously struggled not to cry it was futile. Thick teardrops swelled in his eyes before they fell quickly down his face. The waves masked the sound of footsteps in soft sand and since he thought he was alone he didn't bother to surpress a loud sniffle.   
  
When a large gloved hand gently fell onto his shoulder he jumped and the shock made him yelp in surprise before the sobs burst from his throat. It was over in less than a minute as it was more of an overload of emotions than a crying episode, but Preston had managed to kneel down before him and wrap the boy in his arm to hold him comfortingly.   
  
Of course the poor boy was crying. So much had happened, so much he didn't even remember but everything that had happened, every action, required a reaction. Whatever those insane scientists had done in their underground facility had to be traumatizing and Shaun was just a kid.   
  
Preston pressed the boy to his chest allowing him to sob into his scarf. He almost felt guilty for being the one taking care of Shaun during such a vulnerable moment but it wasn't as if these things could be planned ahead and at least the kid wasn't alone. The sobs were muffled against the fabric and after little while they sat in silence, only hearing the soft breeze above the waves.   
  
When Shaun finally released his grip around the Senior Officer he didn't speak. His face was red from the exertion and his eyes were sad. For a moment he looked far older than he had business doing and Preston almost pulled him in to another hug but it felt redundant. Instead he settled down next to him and relaxed, hoping some of his own calm might transfer onto the child.   
  
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly.   
  
Shaun wiped his nose on his sleeve and sniffed, pulling his knees to his chest.  
  
"'m sorry."  
  
"For what?"  
  
Shaun didn't reply and hugged his legs more tightly. If he didn't want to talk about it then Preston wouldn't press the matter but sometimes a little encouragement was needed.   
  
"There's nothing wrong with crying, y'know. It's actually good for you."  
  
"Good for you?"  
  
"Yeah." Preston said with a smile. At least Shaun wasn't completely shutting him out. "It's a good way for your body to react to things that happen. Like if you fall and scrape your knee or if you do something embarrasing and someone laughs at you."  
  
"Do you cry?"  
  
"Sure I do. It's been a while now since things have been going pretty good but yeah. I cry." He paused to study Shauns face. His face had begun going back to its normal hue and the tears on his face had dried. "Did something happen to you today?"  
  
Shaun only shook his head and kept his eyes steady on the skyline.  
  
"You can tell me anything. I won't tell anyone else about it."  
  
He continued his silence and Preston joined him. Sometimes it was nice just to have company and he had offered his shoulder and ear, there wasn't much else he could do that wouldn't end up putting a strain on their friendship. They spent a few minutes like that; watching the ruins in comfortable silence until Shaun turned his attention to Preston.  
  
"Aren't the recruits waiting for you?"  
  
"Not exactly. I'm supposed to be watching them train and see how they're handling it but it can wait. Take your time."  
  
"You don't have to comfort me. I'm okay."  
  
Preston gently placed his hand on Shauns shoulder.   
  
"If something has happened I want to help."  
  
"Nothing happened." Shaun mumbled.   
  
"Then why were you crying?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Preston sighed softly and shifted in the sand to face him more clearly.  
  
"Well... that's okay too. Sometimes you don't need a reason. Sometimes it's just... a little too much of everything for no reason."  
  
The boy looked up at Preston, bloodshot eyes looking for any sign of deceit but the man was as honest and genuine as always. It was hard not to reciprocate his kind smile and as suddenly as the tears and sadness had come it had blown away.   
  
Shaun trusted Preston and he had been nothing but kind and patient with him. When he had a new project he was working on Preston always found the time to check it out and encourage him, complimenting his methods and results. When the General left for a mission and he felt lonely Preston was always there to keep him company and Preston always paid attention to the things he spoke about. He was never condescending like the other adults sometimes were.  
  
Sometimes, when Shaun thought about the father he never got to meet, he found himself wishing that if Nate was still alive he'd be just like Preston.   
  
Mister Hancock was a nice guy and Shaun was happy that he made his mom happy but at times it was obvious that Hancock was uncomfortable taking care of a child. Shaun had never been to Goodneighbor but he could safely assume there wasn't a lot of kids around so he didn't blame the Mayor for being cautious.   
  
"Why is mom really at the airship?"  
  
"I'm not sure if I should..."  
  
"Please? I never know what's going on. She's never here. I keep remembering things I don't... recognize and nobody ever tells me anything. Sometimes it feels like it would be better if I just wasn't here."  
  
"Hey, don't..." he began, leaning his head down to get on eyelevel with the kid. "It's not true. We all love you and we're happy you're here with us."  
  
"She's always leaving."  
  
"She's just busy, it's not because of you."  
  
"But she just came back and then she left again because she wanted to 'talk' to the Brotherhood and nobody wants to tell me why."  
  
"She... needed to clarify some things with them, that's all."  
  
"What things?"  
  
"Shaun..." he sighed. The kid had his mothers stubborness, that was for damn sure.   
  
"Fine! Don't tell me. I'll just sit here like a good kid while you go watch the recruits train."  
  
They returned to the silence with Shaun defiantly staring into the sand infront of his feet. He had a point. The boy was indirectly involved in a lot of secret business, especially now with the General fearing for his future, and yet he was uninformed of what was happening.   
  
They had all agreed to tell him that the Institute had kidnapped him and that the General crossed hell and high water just to find him but everyone was under strict orders to never let on that it wasn't _him_ specifically. Or that 60 years had passed between the General waking up and the kidnapping of the baby or that he had been created on a whim from the Generals real son, though he was aware that he and his mother had been born before the bombs dropped and that they had been frozen in the vault.  
  
It was true that Shaun was generally kept close but still at a distance, something the Preston had originally thought was close enough to the fire to keep warm but not get burnt, but maybe it was time to change things. If Shaun couldn't physically grow up it didn't mean he wouldn't mentally and he was already an exceptionally bright and perceptive boy. Hell, he was probably more of a fighter than half the recruits waiting on Preston to come back from beyond the sand dune.   
  
Preston knew the General wanted to preserve his childhood innocence as long as it was possible but in the post-war world that was a rare gift, and one that could end his life prematurely. He felt a tingle of fear, knowing that what he would propose to the child could very well send the Generals wrath on him, but at the same time it felt right. It _was_ right.   
  
"Maybe... if you promise to take it easy and do exactly as I say..." he started. Shaun looked up from the ground, still upset about the previous exchange but now curious as well. "Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to let you train a little too."  
  
Immediately the boy looked brighter, his eyes wide in excitment and a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.   
  
"Really?"  
  
"Ah, well you can't train with the recruits but I can show you a little while they do their excercise."  
  
"Show me what? Can you teach me how to fire a musket like yours?"  
  
"Maybe we shouldn't get ahead of ourselves here..." Preston laughed. As much as the General could be scary and he wasn't looking forward sharing the news of what he was about to do, it was nice to see Shaun enthusiastic about something other than bolts and screws someone had dumped in the warehouse. As if Shaun had read his mind his expression softened.  
  
"Mom would never let me. She'd just get mad again."  
  
"Let me talk to her about it. I'm sure she'll understand. You're going to grow up whether she likes it or not." he said, playfully ruffling the boys hair.   
  
Preston rose to his feet, brushing the sand off his coat as he went. The hand he extended to Shaun was almost symbolical; an invitation to defy the Generals orders, and the boy took it without hesitation to heave himself up to stand.   
  
Perhaps the General would become fury incarnate like he had seen once before when she confronted Kellog but while the General was a volatile woman at times she was nothing if not reasonable. Preston felt the guilt of going behind her back weigh in his gut and the fear of what it could do to their friendship but it still felt like the right thing to do.   
  
The General believed in the Minutemen, as did Preston, but she did spend a lot of time away from her son and while he was always left in loving and capable hands, it wasn't fair. He needed to be with his family, he deserved to be, and he needed to be taken seriously. A child or not; he was a person with his own independent mind and opinion.  
  
The afternoon transpired easily enough. A few of the recruits lagged behind in the training but still managed to keep a steady tempo with the rest of the team and Preston noted that with a little extra attention to the few would be all that was needed. Splitting up the team into two at this point would do more harm than good.  
  
The training with Shaun had been, for Preston, tense but honestly quite relaxing. He had allowed him to hold an unloaded gun properly to feel the weight of it, shown him how to take apart, clean and reassemble a plain 10mm pistol and how to aim it. Everything had gone as safely as Preston could possibly make it, keeping the chamber empty at all times and always making sure it pointed away from any limbs or people.   
  
Shaun seemed uplifted by the experience and he was practically bursting with excitement once they returned the Castle. It didn't make matters worse to find that Sturges had now returned from Greygarden with a bunch of scrap that Shaun was quickly digging through.  
  
He seemed to find something he'd been looking for, grabbing it and hurrying to the workshop, leaving the two adults alone by the gates.   
  
"How's the situation at Greygarden?" Preston asked him as Sturges began to lead the way towards his quarters.   
  
"It's alright. The robot is workin' again and the walls are all patched up. Should hold for another attack."  
  
"I'm glad." Preston said with a smile. It was comforting to have Sturges around. He was a reliable man and handy with all sorts of things that needed fixing and he couldn't deny it wasn't nice to have someone familiar around, someone from before the Institute and the General. Someone else who had been at Quincy and survived against all odds and still had the strength to keep fighting. It was easy to feel at ease around Sturges and it wasn't just because of his charming personality.  
  
They entered Sturges humble quarters that seemed just as filled with scrap and junk as the workshop. As they both knew the reason Preston had followed him inside his quarters they both sat down on the couch facing eachother after moving some technical manuals off the cushions.  
  
"Any news?"  
  
"The General has gone to their base to check their status and we're..." Preston began softly, his voice wavering slightly when Sturges moved a little closer. "We're working on a plan incase things go bad."   
  
"Huh." Sturges laughed. "That General sure don't waste time, does she?"  
  
"I suppose not." Preston said with a gentle smile.   
  
When Sturges reclined on the couch, assuming the secretive conversation to be over, Preston found himself trying to discern what he was smelling in the room. He could sense the oil from the various dirty objects on the shelves and in boxes and there was the obvious salty ocean air lingering in every corner of the Castle but there was something else too. It made him feel... hungry in lack for better words. Like it was something he wanted or needed, something essential, but he couldn't understand what it was.   
  
Maybe he was just hungry in the literal sense. It had been a while since he'd had lunch at the island. In his sudden deep thoughts he had missed what Sturges had said and when the other man stared at him expectantly he felt embarrassed, his cheeks suddenly heating up.   
  
"I'm sorry, what was that?"  
  
"Seems like you're due for a nice little vacation. I've told you before and I'll tell you again; you work way too much. I know you just want what's best for everyone but you gotta think about yourself too."  
  
"Ah, yes. I will. Soon. I'm sure. But what were you saying?"  
  
"How's the Castle been without me? Don't tell me y'all didn't miss me?"  
  
Preston laughed a little too loud and coughed to cover it up.   
  
"It's always a little too quiet without you."  
  
"Compliment accepted." he laughed.   
  
It felt a little awkward but Sturges was nothing if not pleasant to talk to and Preston began filling him in on the details of the Brotherhood plan. He agreed that building artillery on select settlements would be the way to go; he had first hand experience with the Minutemen weaponry and knew they weren't up to the Brotherhood standards. It wasn't even a question of whether or not the recruits were good enough in a battle with the Brotherhood.   
  
They were purebred soldiers while the Minutemen were a little of everything; farmers, traders and scavengers all joined together in an effort to defend their land. But perhaps that would also play better into their hands, Sturges suggested. The Minutemen had more to lose than the Brotherhood and while the Brotherhood had a better arsenal it didn't mean much if they couldn't use the enviroment to their benefit.   
  
The biggest threat the Brotherhood had in their arsenal was their powerarmor and miniguns and, while that was certainly nothing they wanted to face one on one, maneuvering a powerarmor and aiming a heavy minigun in the rubble of the city or the uneven ground of the wasteland wasn't very easy. The Minutemen were at least trained to be agile and clever when defending their position. Even getting just a little highground on the Brotherhood could easily tip the odds in their favor.   
  
Discussing the potential outbreak of a war and how to survive it was generally depressing but the conversation seemed to flow without interruption well into the night. Maybe the beers Sturges had hidden under his bed helped to keep the mood comfortable or maybe Preston had just missed talking to a friend and not necessarily a colleague. Eventually they began talking about the future with or without a second war and when Preston went to bed that night he couldn't keep it off his mind.  
  
What would he do once the Minutemen didn't need him anymore? He could die in duty, of course, and then it wouldn't be anything to worry about but hopefully he'd live a long life. As much as he loved the Minutemen and protecting the Commonwealth, could he do it until his deathbed? No. Not quite.   
  
Preston was ready to give his life for the Minutemen but he wanted a life with meaning. He wanted a family some day; a home and someone to love. Just like the General had with Hancock and her son. He wanted something personal to be apart of and to be proud of and that was a itch that the Minutemen couldn't scratch. These thoughts ricocheted through his mind as he struggled to sleep until finally exhaustion overcame him and put his mind to rest.   
  
It would happen some day. He had time to figure things out.   
  
Didn't he?  
  



	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont have an excuse, im just sorry ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ havent felt like writing until now. hope you like it!!!

It had only been a few days, three from what Fahr had told him, and she could be back at any time. The time in Goodneighbor sometimes blended together like a swirl of smoke and while it almost felt like he'd just gotten home, three days be damned, every second where he didn't know what was happening with the General on such a precarious mission felt like hours.   
  
He tried to push the thoughts away as soon as they surfaced, keeping busy as the life of the party. But a part of him kept nagging, kept screaming for attention, that she could already be dead and he wouldn't know it. There could already be soldiers marching to burn Goodneighbor to the ground. Fahrenheit had been right and he was pissed that he hadn't realized it himself. Dating the General as the Mayor was an alliance neither one of them had really thought about or discussed but an alliance nonetheless.   
  
It was one thing to get a little crazy for a person when he was thinking with his dick but it was even worse than that; he was thinking with his heart.   
  
He took another swig of his beer and looked at the man next to him on the barstool. They'd been in idle conversation after the general population turned in for the night, or rather the morning, and the drifter had now succumbed to sleep as well. A string of saliva drooled down his chin onto the table where his face was planted rather ungracefully.  
  
Other than the couple getting high on the couch behind him and the robot infront of him Hancock was more or less the only one awake. He thought about joining them but decided against it. Didn't look like they were interested in any company anyway. Instead he tipped his hat for Charlie who hummed disapprovingly at the unpaid bar tab but what fun was there in owning the place if you couldn't skip out on paying every once in a while?  
  
He skipped up the steps to exchange a few words with Ham, desperate for something to distract him, but the ol' ghoul had turned in as well and the place was empty. With most of the town sleeping or passed out drunk there wouldn't be any trouble the Watch couldn't deal with but Hancock still felt a little sour that he was now alone. He didn't want to think about it and he didn't want to worry but the only thing waiting upstairs was a few hours of tossing and turning despite the burning desire to sleep behind his eyes.   
  
He never should've let her go alone, what the fuck was he thinking?  
  
It was the rare hour in the morning where it was too late to party but too early to wake up for an honest days of work. Maybe he could chat with KLE-0 for a bit; robots didn't sleep, did they? Or maybe he could put in some work on his shotgun, keep it ready for action. Maybe he'd exercise his mayoral powers and force Fahrenheit to play chess with him or something. He never won but he dreaded going back upstairs to be alone.   
  
His eyelids were heavy and dry and he hated it but he knew there was little choice left, he was only avoiding the inevitable. Hancock kicked the dust on the ground with his hands in his pockets as he slowly made his way towards his bedroom. There would probably be a book or something to sink his teeth into until he had no choice but to pass out himself. Maybe he could even tend to some of his mayoral duties for once.   
  
The steps up to his place creaked with each step, the old wood groaning of old age. It sounded like it could be time to repair some of the buildings around Goodneighbor and he could start with the stairs... Hancock sighed in frustration, earning a confused look from one of the watchers but he only dismissed it with a wave of his hand.   
  
His room was cold and dark. The bed looked inviting enough but as soon as his head touched the pillow he'd be just as wide awake as he'd been all night and he wasn't particularly interested in repeating last nights activities. Instead he opted for an armchair after nabbing a random book from his shelf. It didn't matter what he read as long as he read something and although the light on the table was enough for him to read the text, it was still dim and cozy enough for him to drift away within minutes of sitting down.  
  
He wasn't even sure if he'd actually been sleeping when he felt something gentle tickle his lips and chin. Something firm pushed against his temple and then his scalp and it was finally enough to rouse his attention back from slumber. The light next to him had died out and he was once again in the dark but he could sense a figure standing over him. His instincts kicked in to pull in whoever it was into a restrictive hold but a soft 'oh' stopped him before his hand reached their throat.   
  
"General?"  
  
"Well I missed you too, honey."  
  
Hancock felt an explosion of relief and it was like a shockwave through his body and he melted around her, wrapping his arms around her tightly.   
  
"Jesus, sunshine. You scared me."  
  
"What were you gonna do?" she laughed, leaning into the embrace as well as she could from her awkward position. "Hug me to death?"  
  
"I damn near well could! What the hell took you so long?"  
  
"I'm sorry. There wa-... could you let go for a bit?" He reluctantly reduced his hold around her but followed her closely behind as she stood up. "There was an attack on a caravan and they asked me to follow them to Bunker Hill just incase. Two of their guards died. I couldn't exactly say no, could I?"  
  
Hancock put his palm against her cheek, both in a way to be affectionate but also to examine for any damage he couldn't see in the dark.   
  
"Ya could've but I guess ya shouldn't've."  
  
The General leaned into his hand and closed the small distance between them, molding herself into his arms with a sigh. It had to be late in the evening for it to be so dark in the room, he probably slept most of the day away, but once he finally had her back in his arms safely he suddenly felt exhausted again.   
  
"Are you okay?" he asked her. "Are... things okay?"  
  
"My, oh my, Mayor Hancock. Is that code for something? Are you a spy?"   
  
"Well your sense of humor sure as shit ain't damaged." he laughed, moving his hands across her back. It felt so good to finally see her again, almost as if he was getting high for the first time in weeks even though he had only just sobered up after his sleep.   
  
"I'll get into the details later but we're all fine. Don't worry. Any choo-choo news?"  
  
"You're complainin' about my covert conversation?"   
  
She placed two quick kisses on his neck and cheek before untangling herself from him to rummage through her backpack. Hancock took the time to turn on lights while they continued their conversation.  
  
"I got nothin' so far. Ya sure you're still on good terms with 'em?"  
  
"I can't see why we wouldn't be. If we aren't, well... they still owe us for dealing with the Institute. Just meeting us would be a small price to pay." She pulled out a can of purified water and cracked it open. "Maybe something's happened to them."  
  
"Don't think a common raider gang could do any damage to those guys. You think maybe the Brotherhood...?"  
  
She took a swig of the water, letting it wash through the dryness of her throat. Once she had entered the ruins of Boston she had ignored any call from her body to take a break, instead striving to making it home as soon as she possibly could.   
  
"They're not exactly friends, no. But I think we would've heard something if the Brotherhood attacked them. They're not the quiet type."  
  
"True." Hancock replied, taking the can from her hand to sip on it himself. "But they're clever. Maybe they've learned how to act here."  
  
He took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb softly across the back of her hand as he walked back towards the armchair and sat down.   
  
"They're clever but they're arrogant. Never underestimate the ego of a powerful man." she teased him, narrowing her eyes with a crooked smile.  
  
The General was dirty and it was pretty clear it had been a few days without proper hygiene. While she was resourceful and tried harder than the average wastelander to stay clean, even she had her limits, which he noticed by the soft coating of dirt on her skin and clothes. Her boots were caked in mud, which wasn't too surprising; it'd been raining the day before, and her hair was unkept and a little everywhere.  
  
But she was so beautiful, so stunning, that his heart felt lighter in his chest when she followed him to sink into his lap. She had the good sense to keep her boots off of the chair but he barely noticed when she relaxed against him, putting her arm around his shoulders and letting his head rest against her chest.   
  
How was it possible for something so simple to feel so good? It didn't matter that he could taste the dust on her skin when he kissed the back of her hand or that the dust from her coat would inevitably shake itself like snowfall onto his furniture and himself.   
  
She removed his tricorn and placed gentle kisses on his scalp, running her fingers across his cheek as she held him in place. It was dangerous to be inlove, he thought, pulling her closer even though there was no space between them. He could destroy for her, he could kill indiscriminately and the idea was terrifying. It wasn't the kind of person he wanted to be and he hated how wrapped around her finger he was but when she sighed against him, when she reciprocated his gesture and tried to get even closer those thoughts were muted and pushed away.   
  
The General herself was in no better shape. Her body ached from hurrying home and she had stepped awkwardly on a rock at least twice. She felt the dirt on her skin like sandpaper and her arms were heavy from holding her gauss rifle ready the whole way home but here he was, like a beacon in the darkness, holding her firmly and keeping her rooted.   
  
It was a brief respite but it made it all worth it, especially when her lips wandered down his face. She kissed the dents and ridges softly, past his eyebrows and gently over his closed eyelids. The General shifted in his lap so she could reach further, tracing her lips down his cheeks until their lips met tenderly. Maybe he was too drowsy from waking up, or maybe he had managed to get hungover, but her loving embrace wasn't enough for him.   
  
He grabbed a hold of her hips and twisted their position so that she carefully lowered into his place while he smoothly put himself between her legs. It was so familiar to him and exactly what he needed to feel; he needed her pressed flush against himself, to be as close as they could possibly be.   
  
But it still wasn't enough. He knew what he wanted, what he needed, he could feel it growing against the fabric of his pants and it began to overwhelm him so that he barely registered how she began pushing against his shoulders. All he could think about was how much he loved the taste of her and how plump her flesh was between his bony fingers. Had their kiss not been broken to take a breath he wouldn't've heard the strained gasp, not one of passion, but one of panic.   
  
It brought him back in the moment at lightspeed and when he realized what he was doing he launched himself backwards to let her go. Immediately he felt the cold sensation of panic drip down his spine and the panicked look in her eyes made his guts feel like they were wringed for blood.   
  
"Fuck, honey..." he whispered, knowing there was hardly anything he could say. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't... thinking. I'm sorry."  
  
The General didn't reply but got to her feet and stepped away from him, slowly as if she wasn't sure what to do. She knew it wasn't like him, he would never deliberately hurt her, but in the moment she couldn't even see Hancock. Instead it was Nate in front of her, looking confused and hurt.  
  
A part of her knew what was happening but being brought back in those horrid moments made her guts churn uncomfortably. Nate would ask her if he disgusted her and she'd try to explain but she didn't understand it herself. Why was it so hard for her? It was perfectly normal, the most human thing in the world, and yet as he tried to undress her, kissing her shoulders as he pulled at the fabric, it felt wrong.   
  
That was all she could say. It felt wrong.   
  
It felt so insignificant but the only thing she knew for certain was that when he grunted ontop of her after she succumbed to his advances was that she absolutely didn't want to do it. She didn't want to be there and she didn't want to be his wife if that's what it took and it was only when she found out about Shaun growing inside her womb that she felt that it, if only a little, had been worth it.   
  
And she could still feel his phantom hands reaching up under her dress 200 years later but he wasn't there, she knew he wasn't there but Hancock was and he looked like a puppy lost in the rain and it was because of her. Maybe their relationship had been doomed from the start; a casanova and a stone. Maybe she should've stayed away from relationships when she knew she could only do parts of it and due to her own selfishness Hancock was now stuck in the middle of it.  
  
"It's okay." she said softly, her voice barely sounding like her own. "It's okay." she repeated as if the more she said it the truer it was.   
  
Hancock was shivering with anxiety and regret, the few drugs still in his system making it hard to keep himself together. It wasn't okay, he thought. He had gone too far and he made her feel unsafe which was unforgivable in his books. Though, as the silent moments kept moving forward, and he backed away to give her literal and figuerative space, what had he really done?  
  
She was obviously shaken and he felt incredibly sorry that he had caused her that but at the same time, he thought with a little shame, it wasn't as if he had pulled down his pants. He'd gotten a little aggressive, sure, he was just passionate, and it was something he wouldn't soon repeat, but even at his worst and fucked up high he was sure he'd never sink so low as to force a partner to have sex.   
  
Hancock was by no means a good man but you had to be a special kind of depraved asshole to do something like that.   
  
He stalked over to a table to draw a cigarette from his pack, putting it between his lips and patting his body to find a lighter. There was one in his inner left pocket and he gingerly lit it, taking a drag as he felt his body soften up from the tension. His limbs felt like jelly, but he had made a mistake. That was all. He could fix that. Right?  
  
Hancock turned around amidst the cloud of smoke fixed in the air as the aircirculation was surprisingly bad in the boarded up room. The General had taken a seat in the armchair and stared at a spot on the floor, clearly trying to compose herself. Well shit, he thought. She'd just spent the past few days shitting diamonds with the Brotherhood and now this. He took another drag of his cigarette and let the smoke blow out through his nasal cavity, feeling the smoke burn going out.   
  
"Hey..." he spoke lowly.  
  
The wooden flooring creaked under his feet as he approached her cautiously. Considering her reaction he wouldn't be too surprised if any sudden movements would have her jumping out the window, a habit she had when an enemy entered melee range and she wasn't up for hand-to-hand-combat, but instead she looked up at him. Her gaze was strong and Hancock felt the relief turn his already jelly limbs even softer. He sunk down at the end of his bed opposite of her and waited for her to speak.  
  
It hadn't been that bad, in her eyes, it'd just surprised her and caught her off guard. She couldn't deny that the imprint Nate had left had managed to resurface and while she trusted Hancock wholeheartedly she had also trusted Nate at some point.   
  
Hancock was a good guy, a wonderful man, and she thought back to her marriage. If the bombs hadn't dropped and changed everything... Would she have survived the marriage? Would Nate have been happy being rebuffed at every advance he made or would they both drive eachother insane? Most likely they would've gotten a divorce, she supposed, and their happy family would be miserable and torn in pieces.  
  
She couldn't stand that happening to her and Hancock, he was too important. If there was even the slightest chance to keep him in her life she had to take it.  
  
"I know..." she began, starting the conversation gently. "I know you didn't mean anything by it and I know it was all me."  
  
"No." he whispered, taking her hands as he sunk to his knees infront of her. His thumb ran across the back of her hands soothingly while his puppy eyes cut a hole in her. He began to make more interruptions, excuses and apologies she assumed, so she spoke again.  
  
"No, I know it's me. You do too. I know it's... I'm... I'm not a good wife." she said with a sad wink and a nudge of her shoulders. "And that's okay!" she added quickly. "It's just how I am."  
  
Hancock brought her hands to his lips and kissed them, getting the hint that she had something to say and he had to be quiet but he wouldn't let her go on without showing her some affection.   
  
"And I know how you are."  
  
This made Hancock squint his eyes at her. How he was? Sure he had plenty of charisma to go around and he was more out-going than the average joe but he loved spending time with her. Not to mention even Fahrenheit had remarked that he was different now that he'd met her and she wouldn't've had bothered to say that unless it was significant.   
  
Yeah, his position as the Mayor had suffered a bit but it wasn't like he was required to be in-office at all times for all the concerned citizens and any major issue could be brought to his attention wherever he was. He didn't exactly drop off the face of the earth when he was out of town, the General had eyes on her constantly.   
  
"I've heard the rumors... about the tours and about your... 'skills'. And I understand."  
  
He thought briefly that he was glad she did 'cause he sure as shit didn't.  
  
"Hancock, I care so much about you. You're my best friend and I love you so much but-"  
  
Wait...  
  
"-maybe it would be best if we-"  
  
Hold on...  
  
"-got back to being friends and you could... find someone better for you."  
  
Hell no. _Fuck_ no.   
  
He let go of her hands and backed away. What the fuck was she talking about? Hancock was stunned and he could feel the fear blossom in his chest. Was she dumping him?   
  
"Friends? You want to be friends?" he said, sounding a little offended. He knew he had messed up by coming on a little too strong but you had to be able to talk those things out. He wasn't an expert on relationships but he knew at least that much and damnit, he was ready to face his own town rejecting him for her. And she wanted to be friends? "It's a little late for that sunshine." he said with a snarl.   
  
"Hancock, please. I'm just trying..." she began, sensing the tension that was building. Well, that didn't go the way she thought it would. A part of her thought that maybe he'd even be relieved that he wouldn't have to dance on eggshells when it came to intimacy but somehow she was shocked that he was getting angry. Then she felt dumb for thinking he wouldn't take offence. Christ, she had her head up her ass sometimes.  
  
"Youre tryin' t'break up over a mistake. It was a mistake! I know I ain't perfect. I dont know where your limits are and I'm tryin' to figure it out but you wanna break us off... _break us off_ at the first bump on the road!"  
  
"No, that's not... I'm just looking out for you, I love y-" she tried explaining but he immediately cut her off.   
  
" _No!_ You do not get to say that and then tell me to fuck off."  
  
"I'm not-"  
  
"Then what? You dont trust me, is that it? I can live with that! And I can spend the rest of our lifes tryin' to earn it back but don't you dare try an' weasel out of this relationship blamin' it on me."  
  
This was so typical, he thought. Of course this is what had to happen. Couldn't go long without fucking up the good things he got going even though he knew he was doing everything he was supposed to. He was affectionate, he was patient. He was the exemplary boyfriend because he tried his damndest to be but it was, what, still not good enough?  
  
"That's not what I meant, I just... I understand that you have urges I can't... _satisfy._ " she said frustrated. "And I want you to be happy."  
  
"I _AM_ happy. With _YOU._ " It was starting to feel like a fever dream where he was walking in circles trying to escape somewhere. "I am more than the legends of my loin, y'know! I'm a person inside just like the rest of y'all and I thought you knew that."  
  
He had risen to his feet while she remained in the armchair. His skin felt electric and the pressure in his chest was getting to his head. Un-fucking-belivable. Of course she wanted out, who was he kidding? Took her a while to figure it out but she did it, eventually. He sighed, stomping out the cigarette that had been abandoned and burned out on the floor.   
  
"Man," he said to himself, "I'm a fucking moron. Gettin' this bent out of shape for some girl." He paced around the room, trying to get some air back in his lungs. Suddenly he felt exhausted even though he had slept just fine waiting for her to come home.  
  
"But you're not just some girl, are ya?" he said softly, turning around to look at her. "You're my sunshine."   
  
The General teared up, somehow finally realizing that while breaking up might be what was best for him it certainly wasn't for her. What the fuck? _What the fuck?_ What was she doing? She had the man of her dreams at her feet if she asked him nicely and she was letting him go? Yeah, she wanted to be fair to him and she knew her not wanting to have sex would be a constant issue but he _did_ say he was okay with it. And he _was_ patient and kind. And she was throwing that away?   
  
"If ya want out of this arrangement, that's up to you. I don't want to put you in a situation you don't want to be in but I want to be clear; I don't plan on pallin' around with people who break my heart."  
  
The anxiety was back and growing in strength rapidly. Hancock grabbed his tricorn from the table next to the armchair where it had fallen and walked out of his room, not knowing what to do with himself. His best bet was heading back to the Third Rail to party the thoughts out of his head, though only temporarily. They'd have to talk it over once more, at least, but that was a worry for another time. Right now he wasn't in the mood to handle it and he decided to leave it for Future Hancock.   
  
Meanwhile the General was softly sobbing into nothing. She immediately regretted the whole thing and she clearly hadn't thought it through at all, though she did still recognize that their relationship had problems as it was. But he was right.  
  
He was trying to figure out her limits and so was she. She couldn't pass any judgement on him for that, how could he possibly know what was too much for her when she couldn't herself? Not to mention that she didn't want to hide from Nate when he was long dead and Hancock was willing to give her everything Nate hadn't bothered to.   
  
She sighed and wiped the tears off of her cheeks, forcing the tears to subside. She fucked up, badly, and she would have to fix it too. Whatever it took, even if she had to beg on her knees infront of the whole world, she'd do it to get back in his good graces. Maybe it was just the tension from the meeting with the Brotherhood still making itself known in her and she overreacted like a complete moron.   
  
But she could fix it. Just like she'd fix finding Madison and grilling the Railroad for information. Just like she'd fix her baby boy and whatever was afflicting him. She was the fucking General.   
  
The General got up on shaky legs and went through the cabinets to find something to drink. In a cupboard she found a couple of fingers of whiskey and while whiskey was a nasty drink she still took a swig and let it burn itself down her throat while she grimaced. It was horrible, didn't even taste good, but she needed to feel it to wake up. It'd already been a long day before she made it to Goodneighbor and it wasn't over yet.  
  
She toyed with the idea of just going to sleep in Hancocks room, waiting for him when he eventually came back and they could talk but she wasn't in a sleeping mood. Instead she took another swig before furiously wiping her mouth against her arm and slamming the bottle down on the table.   
  
Daisy was probably still running her shop and she thought she could buy a new bottle of whiskey for him as a peace offering. It would be a small gesture but it'd be something to break the ice with. It was fair too, considering the bottle was almost empty anyway.   
  
The walls moved a little slower as she turned around to move out of his room and down to the good town and that had to be some damn fine whiskey if only two mouthfulls were enough to do that. Sure, she couldn't carry herself at all when it came to alcohol as she never really drank and it'd been a while since she ate but she prepared herself to pay up a mighty sum for the whiskey to make sure it was up to par.   
  
The guards stationed outside were staring at the floor or the walls infront of them, refusing to meet her eyes. Of course they had heard everything and of course they were all terrified of either the General herself or Hancock and they all had the good sense to pretend nothing had happened. She eyed them carefully as she slowly made her way down the stairs, giddily enjoying the little powertrip.   
  
It'd been a rough couple of days and it didn't look brighter in the future, she'd take whatever small fun she could until things were better. The moment helped push away the regret a little bit and her thoughts got a little clearer.   
  
The streets weren't exactly empty but it was clear that with the Mayor back everyone wanted to party with him down in the old subway station so the population above ground was scarce. Luckily Daisy was still at her shop, daydreaming with her eyes fixed at the walls protecting the town.   
  
"Hello, beautiful." the General said, leaning on the counter next to Daisy.  
  
"Well, hey there, stranger. What brings you to this nasty part of the city?"  
  
"Oh, you know. Drama, action, handsome ghouls." she replied with a small wink, thinking it was better to pretend everything was fine rather than start unnecessary rumours.  
  
"Oh," she laughed, "I hear that. But why are you up here chatting with an old lady like me when there's a beast ready to be tamed in the bar?"  
  
"I need a lil somethin' to tame him with." she replied, bringing up her caps to the counter. "Your finest whiskey, ma'am."  
  
Daisy scoffed and went to find a bottle in the stock when a man crept up behind the General. Goodneighbor had all sorts of shady types but as long as she didn't feel a hand on her ass or in her pocket, he could creep all he wanted. She had a mission, though the details on talking things through with Hancock were still unclear, and there was nothing stopping her. Until the man made a comment that was completely out of place.  
  
"Do you have a geigercounter?"  
  
The General couldn't help but to smile. At least some pieces were starting to come together and she replied: "Actually, mine's at the shop."  
  
"Might wanna hurry and get it fixed, looks like there's a storm coming."  
  
"Yeah." she nodded. "Could be a big one."  
  
"Well, you know what people do best when things are coming down, right?"  
  
"What?" she asked. While she knew they were both talking inconspicuously she was far from as experienced as Deacon.   
  
"We get drunk!" he exclaimed, throwing out his arms in a surprise gesture.  
  
Daisy returned with the bottle and looked at them suspiciously. The General pulled out her caps while she laughed at him, paying for the whiskey with a wink towards Daisy. Of course she knew all about the Minutemen doing hush-hush business unofficially every once in a while and of course it usually went down in Goodneighbor. Daisy raised her eyebrows while she stashed the caps safely, as if to say 'none of my business'.   
  
"Say, why don't we prepare for a storm then, friend?" the General asked Deacon. Before she pulled away from the counter she shot Daisy a smile and gave her a genuine 'thank you', grabbing the bottle by the throat.  
  
The most private place she could imagine would be Hancocks office but considering their fight she didn't want to take unnecessary liberties and it would look bad in general if the guards heard them fighting and she showed up with another man. Instead, as Deacon had alluded to, the bar would ironically be the safest place to talk.   
  
Instead, as they both walked away from Daisy's Discounts, she placed her arm around his shoulder as if they were long lost friends finally catching up, which was in a sense true, but still a cover more than anything. When she saw the state of her coat on his shoulders, dusty and grimey, she briefly thought about taking a moment to clean up but decided that, fuck it, there were more things to worry about than how dirty she was.   
  
The Institute was long gone and there was no real reason to be covert, especially in Goodneighbor when shady business was the norm, but old habits died hard and she didn't mind humoring him as they descended the stairs into the rowdy bar.  


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have you missed me? :Dc sorry lol! it just gets like that sometimes
> 
> please comment and give kudos! i cant survive without validation! also check my tumblr if you wanna chat at tyvian-whaler.tumblr.com

The happy patrons of the bar were making such noise she wasn't sure if the bar was a better place to talk after all. She would've figured Hancock would be doing most of the talking there, stunning his crowd with embellished stories from the road, but instead he was taking in several drunk mumbling people at once, even successfully being the coherent party of each conversation.   
  
He was a man of the people, alright.  
  
The General watched him for a moment, appriciating the sparkle in his eyes. It'd been a while since she saw him like that and she wondered if maybe she smothered him, but she wasn't exactly a town of misfits. There were some things she couldn't be or give to him, which she'd just have to accept, and there were things he couldn't be or give to her.   
  
She recalled their earlier 'conversation', or her lapse in sanity, and sighed to herself. It had to be the Brotherhood, she thought. They must've set her off balance or something, done something to make her try and sabotage herself.   
  
Hancock was laughing with that award winning smile and she was overcome with love and adoration. It made her knees weak and heart flutter and the need to run into his arms had to be restrained.   
  
No, he'd never hurt her. He couldn't. He wasn't Nate and he wouldn't do what Nate had unknowingly done and it was with a bitter taste in her mouth that she thought that maybe it was time to start letting go.   
  
Deacon appeared next to her, pulling her back in the present with a chuckle.   
  
"Like a fish in water." he said, as if he'd read her mind. "Which one of us holds the leash?"   
  
Ignoring the way his comment didn't quite sit right with her, a bit too familiar in tone than she was comfortable with from someone who knew more about her than she ever would of him, she humored him. "Please. You could never handle him."  
  
She nodded towards the VIP-room and he took the hint, slinking away without anyone noticing him. With Deacon out of the way it would be easier to persuade an unhappy Hancock to talk to her so soon after their argument; he would hardly be in a mood to talk to her after her accusations and it wasn't a secret that Deacon rubbed him the wrong way.  
  
But still she hardened herself and put on a loving smile, moving forwards in the small crowd until she was unavoidable. She tilted her head and winked coyly, acting the way a girlfriend would to get the attention of her devoted boyfriend, as if there was nothing wrong at all in the world.  
  
Hancocks face didn't move a muscle once he noticed her. Maybe it had taken him years to perfect his pokerface but perfect it was and his bluffs were even better.   
  
"Darlin'." he rasped, tipping the front of his hat for her, still smiling.   
  
"Honey." she replied, smiling sweetly as she turned to face the crowd on both sides. "Would you all mind if I borrowed this handsome man for just a moment?"  
  
Laughter rang out once more among the patrons and a few of them patted Hancock on his back as if to congratulate him on earning her attention, though a few looked dissapointed.  
  
"Aw come on Miss, you'll get him all to yourself later anyway. Let the man drink with his pals, yeah?"  
  
Without missing a beat she countered; "I'll give him back, don't you worry."  
  
She laughed and did her best to look... not at all uncomfortable with dragging Hancock away from his friends and forcing him to speak to her before he was ready. But, she defended herself, she wasn't about to go digging around in a wound that hadn't even had time to set. It was only business and he had the right to be a part of it. He had to be a part of it.   
  
Underneath his cool exterior she knew he was thinking the same thing she was and they both knew that he had every right to decline, important business or not.   
  
"Looks like I don't have a whole lot of choice, fellas." Hancock said finally before following the General away from the crowd. The people behind him dispersed almost instantaneously as if he'd been the only thing keeping them together and people settled into their usual hangouts in the bar, awaiting his return.  
  
They walked to the other side of the room where she playfully touched the ruffles of his shirt. Hancock stood with his back against the bar, shielding them from potential eavesdroppers and keeping the privacy so she could say what she needed without revealing something sensitive.   
  
"I ain't much in the mood yet." he said.  
  
"I know." she replied, dropping her hands from his chest. "I'll give you time and I'm sorry for the inconvinience. I know this is the last thing you want right now and-"  
  
"I'm listenin'." he interrupted. It felt like cold heavy stones fell and then rested in her stomach and Hancock wasn't feeling very proud of how he acted. He was mad. He was damn mad. Even so there was no point in being an ass about it but it slipped out of him anyway. The General sighed to herself and swallowed, choosing her words carefully.  
  
"Choo-choo. Backroom."   
  
Hancock nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. "After you." he said, ready to move out but she paused.   
  
"It's Deacon."  
  
The glimmer in his eyes dissapeared in an instant, even in the air around him fell and grew cold. "Great." he murmured. "Keeps gettin' better."  
  
"It's for the best." she tried to console him. "He's the best shot we have to get what we need."  
  
Hancock smirked as he gestured with his hands for her to lead the way. "It'll be good to finally know what that is."  
  
The General felt her cheeks burn with shame but she held her face and lead him into the room in the back, lightly teasing his hand to follow with her fingers. To the unsuspecting eye they must've looked like a couple looking for some alone time which was exactly what they wanted but it hurt knowing he didn't really want to be near her at the time. Hancock in return ached at the thought of looking like a monster to her.  
  
Seeing that kind of fear in her eyes had made his guts churn in all the wrong ways. He knew he was just as mad at himself as he was mad at her but at least he had acted unknowingly. Despicably, sure, but not with intention. She had.  
  
If she was ready to spill those kinds of thoughts at the first sign of trouble... she must've had them for a while.  
  
He trailed behind her, not eager to start the impromptu meeting but eager to be done with it so that he could go back to feeling sorry for himself. Hey, he had a lot to think about, okay? The commonwealth didn't lack in shitty situations but this was not only a new one but one that hurt like a motherfucker and Hancock wanted time to get ontop of things, time he was currently being denied.  
  
When Hancock entered the room Deacon immediately stood up with the bottle of whiskey, the same bottle the General now noticed was missing from her inventory, and presented it to Hancock as if they were old friends finally coming together to celebrate something. Hancock only glanced at the bottle, hands still in his pockets, before looking back up at the other man.  
  
"Deacon." he said acknowledging him.  
  
"Guess you haven't missed me as much as I've missed you, buddy!" Deacon joked, patting Hancock on his arm.   
  
The General took a step back and looked through the doorway to confirm it was empty, no eavesdropper nearby, and nodded towards Deacon.   
  
"Let's hurry this up." she said, taking a seat on one of the couches.   
  
Deacon was still smiling but she knew he was sizing them up, trying to take the pulse on the situation.  
  
"Trouble in paradise?" he said, shifting his gaze between the two. Hancock had taken his seat on the opposite side of the room from the General with Deacon in the middle on the short side. Hancock immediately snarled back; "Mind your business.", scowling as he leaned back and crossed his arms. Deacon held his hands up in defeat before turning to the General.  
  
"At least one of you woke up on the right side of the bed this morning." he said. "Though I suppose..." he started with a smirk but before he could finish the General interrupted.  
  
"Please. I have a lot to say."  
  
Hancock sighed and relaxed in his seat, surrendering his attention to her, even as it hurt to look at her. He'd been so excited to have her back and not only that but back in Goodneighbor after getting past enemy lines the way only she could. She had a stronger spine than most of the better people he knew, he could count on one hand who'd be either brave or dumb enough to try and pull the stunt she had. She was magnificent, he thought with a sigh. Maybe they were a missmatch.  
  
"So first things first; the Brotherhood." she began. "Obviously they claim to not be hostile towards the rest of us but we all know that's kind of bullshit. As far as I'm concerned they're going to keep pushing their limits on what we're okay with but we can't survive that. We have to start pushing back sooner rather than later and from what I can tell... They won't like it but they won't kill us for it."  
  
"How can you be sure?" Hancock asked.  
  
"Well, of course I can't be completely sure but Maxson said they're looking for someone. That the reason they're still here is because they need Doctor Madison Li. They can't piss off the Commonwealth or they'll never find her, they know that. If she's anywhere around here they'll need our full cooperation or we'll just, y'know, make her dissapear in the masses."  
  
"And you think you have the undivided loyalty of the Commonwealth?" Hancock asked again, cringing at how accusatory he sounded. It was just too soon to talk, he reasoned, still doing his best to suppress his anger. His remark seemed to catch her offguard as well, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks and nose.  
  
"I, uh... No. But I think we all agree that the Brotherhood doesn't belong here. I think the people can at least unite based on that."  
  
"And who's this Doctor?"  
  
"Well I was hoping Deacon could fill us in." she said, turning to him. "She was in the Institute, wasn't she?  
  
"Not only that, she's a household name in the Capital Wasteland. Kind of a big shot. What do you need to know?"  
  
"I need to know what her relationship with the Brotherhood is and why they might need her. And-"  
  
"Hold up, she's known in the Capital Wasteland? How'd she go from there to the Institute? I thought they despised people on the surface." Hancock interrupted.  
  
"To an extent." Deacon replied. "They're known to make exceptions." he said looking at the General.   
  
"That was different."   
  
"Still." he replied, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "But you need her too, don't you?"  
  
"I..." she started, pausing to find the words. "She worked on Shaun, didn't she? She helped... create him, right? I'm not sure if it's a valid fear or not but I... Well I think, maybe, that-"  
  
"Shaun's not growing." Deacon finished. The General silently stared back in shock, the blush from earlier dissapearing and taking most of the color with it.  
  
"Wait, hold on. Shaun ain't growing? What's that mean?" Hancock asked. He moved forwards on his seat, leaning forward the way Deacon did who shifted his body towards the Mayor.   
  
"Based on the data we salvaged before the Institute blew up-"  
  
"You knew." the General said. He knew? He _fucking knew_ , of course he fucking knew. What was there that Deacon didn't know, that he couldn't sniff out like a fucking dog?  
  
"You knew there was something wrong with my son! And you didn't _tell me_? What the fuck, Deacon?"  
  
The General stood up, anger and doubt whiplashing through her body. He wouldn't do that. He couldn't. They weren't exactly dear friends but this was about Shaun, an innocent child. He wouldn't just keep that information secret.  
  
"Now, hold on." Deacon replied, holding his hands infront of him again. "I didn't _know_ anything until now, not until you just confirmed it."  
  
"But you had reason to believe, right? How could you keep that from me?"  
  
God, she wanted to hit him so bad. Smash those stupid fucking sunglasses right into his stupid face. All along he knew. Her anger was unfounded and the little voice in the back of her head was beginning to talk her down but _he knew_! If he'd told her maybe she could've done something, prepared herself, planned ahead or something.   
  
Her fists were clenched so hard her nails would've broken the skin if she didn't keep them short and it wasn't until she felt Hancocks hands on her shoulders that she could start to relax.  
  
"Hey." he spoke lowly to her, softly and tenderly, the way he would say good morning after a long night. Another jab of anxiety hit her in the gut thinking back on those mornings where he would kiss her face awake and how he may never do that again.  
  
"I didn't want you to worry over nothing." Deacon said with caution, waiting for Hancock to diffuse the bomb. "You could've seen something that wasn't there and it's not like there's anything else like Shaun out there. We're still going through the data."  
  
"Hey." Hancock said again, fishing for her attention, but it wasn't until he cupped her cheek in his hand that she looked at him. He could feel her face get warmer under his skin and he felt a pleasant roll in his gut at the sight. Holy shit, he loved her.   
  
It was embarrassing to admit but looking into her eyes that had been wide and frantic until the second they met his and turned soft, he knew he could let her step on him all she wanted and he wouldn't love her any less. All that really stood in the way of that was his pride and his responsibility for his town and people but he was completely and utterly at her mercy.  
  
"Why do you think Shaun's in trouble?" he asked her.  
  
"He hasn't changed." she whispered, tears burning behind her eyes. "I know it hasn't been that long but kids grow so fast and he's exactly the same, even his hair is the same."  
  
"It's okay, it's gonna be okay." he soothed her, stroking his thumb across her cheek. Had the argument not been so fresh in his mind he would've held her like that but regardless of how much he knew he was lost to her, he still had the sense of mind to know she had done something wrong and they still had a lot to talk about before things were okay again. He withdrew from her and walked back to his seat, watching her gently sit back down herself, and then he turned towards Deacon.  
  
"You should've told her."  
  
"It could've been a false alarm."  
  
"That ain't for you to decide. It's her son. You should've told her."  
  
Deacon studied Hancock for a moment before conceding.  
  
"Alright. Yeah. I should've told you." he said to the General. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Yeah." she replied noticeably calmer than she had been a minute before. Hancock had that magic touch that felt like fire and flowers at the same time and she could still feel his hand like a ghost on her cheek. There was no way she was letting him go, not now, not ever.  
  
"So you have information about it then? You know about Shauns... condition?" she said, shifting the attention to the other hole in her heart.  
  
"In a manner of speaking. There's still a lot we haven't gotten to yet, encrypted data and such. Hell, half the stuff we've accessed reads like either a child or a genius with too many thoughts at once wrote it. Best thing to do would be to find Doctor Li, assuming she's alive."  
  
"And you're willing to help find her?" Hancock asked, squinting his eyes at Deacon. "Out of the kindness of your heart?"  
  
"Well," Deacon admitted with a smile, showing his teeth, "actually finding her would be in the Railroads interest too. Granted that the beautiful and oh so wise General would allow us that privilege?"  
  
"What do you want from her?" she asked.   
  
"You're really going to make me show you all my cards today? Man, I feel naked. But I bet you know all about that." he said to Hancock, moving his eyebrows suggestively.   
  
"Watch yourself." Hancock growled back.   
  
"Whoa, easy there. Alright, she's not a dangerous person, she's lived on the surface with the rest of us lowly people and she has exclusive and extensive information about the Institute. You take a guess why we need her."   
  
"So we need her for Shauns sake, the railroad needs her for her knowledge about the Institute. Why does the Brotherhood want her? Maxson said she used to work with them."  
  
Deacon scoffed and leaned back in the couch.  
  
"That's one way to put it. Back in the Capital Wasteland she worked on a thing called Project Purity. They were successful in purifying the water of a river going through the ruins and the idea was to distribute it around the wasteland to help the people which is more or less what's happening, except once the Enclave was defeated there was not much left to hold their own against the Brotherhood."  
  
"Who're the Enclave?" Hancock asked.  
  
"They were the evil equivalent to the Brotherhood."  
  
"Right, but why do they need her now? Sounds like her job's done."  
  
"Sure. I don't really know why they need her but I'll find out. Suppose I owe you that. Plus, it's getting kinda boring around Headquarters now that we don't jump at every sound." he joked.  
  
"Thanks." she replied. "I guess that's all."  
  
"Great!" Deacon said, immediately becoming a new person. "It's been such a nice talk, really needed to catch up with you guys, but I got to get home to the Missus. Haha, the ol' ball and chain."   
  
He stood up to leave but first he took a step towards the General and leaned in to whisper in her ear.   
  
"I may not know why they need her but I do know they didn't part as friends. Clock's ticking."  
  
He turned around to smirk at Hancock, earning another sour look from the Mayor. _Fucker_ , he thought, as Deacon slipped away like a shadow.  
  
The pair sat in silence for a moment, barely acknowledging the tension between them. Neither one of them wanted to leave but nothing could progress before they talked this through and they were both unprepared and unwilling to reopen the wound so soon.  
  
Instead they savored eachothers company in silence before Hancock spoke.   
  
"You really think Shaun's in trouble?"  
  
"Well, I guess trouble is a strong word. He seems fine as far as I can tell but lord knows what the Institute did to him. What the Commonwealth will do to him once they figure out what and who he is."  
  
Hancock nodded as he took it in. Yeah, people were still wary of synths, though, plenty of folks had begun understanding that most of the synths wandering the Commonwealth were there to be free from the Institute, not work for them. But a child synth created in the image of the man responsible for countless of deaths and broken families, of horrible experiments on innocent people?   
  
He wasn't even sure he'd be that trusting if he didn't know the kid himself. Hell, he wasn't sure if he completetly trusted that the Institute hadn't put a sleeper agent in him. They weren't exactly above that, were they?  
  
"We're gonna set things right." he told her. "Don't you worry."  
  
She smiled softly and fought the urge to lock him in an embrace and wrestle him to the floor to trap him in her arms. It was almost a physical ache of longing to kiss him, to feel his chest rumble of laughter next to her or his gentle fingers dancing with hers.   
  
Before she was unable to stop herself she stood up and cleared her throat.  
  
"Right, well..."  
  
"We can talk soon, I just-"  
  
"No, I know. It's okay."  
  
"I just gotta absorb it, y'know?"  
  
"Yeah. Actually, I kinda need to go back to the Castle, fill them in."  
  
"Of course."  
  
"It'd give you some time."  
  
"Mhm."  
  
"But I won't leave until tomorrow."  
  
"Alright. I can meet you there in a few days?"  
  
"Yeah. Well, actually could you meet us in Sanctuary? I promised Shaun some time off."  
  
"Sure."  
  
Their short conversation felt stilted and slightly uncomfortable and the General nodded her goodbye to him, trying to quickly get away from her shame. But before she got far Hancock got up behind her and spun her around, giving her only a second to grasp what was happening before he softly placed his lips on hers, pressing her against himself.  
  
She was quickly onboard with it though, moving her hands to grab a hold of his neck and kiss him deeper but he ended the kiss just as soon as he started it.   
  
"I'll see you in Sanctuary." he said, turning away and walking out, leaving her flustered in shock.   
  
_Alright_ , she thought. _I deserved that_.   
  
She allowed a moment to gather her bearings before she returned to the bar, hearing nothing but the roar of laughter and excited voices surrounding Hancock once more. The General considered sticking around just to watch him thrive but she was even more exhausted than before and sleep called for her like a banshee and she relucantly climbed the stairs to Goodneighbor and further up the Old State House to grab her stuff.   
  
The short walk to Hotel Rexford felt like a mile long and with her pack weighing on her shoulders it felt like a wonder she'd get there at all. Any and all inquisitive eyes shot at her direction were waved away with the explanation that the people were too excited and too loud to have their Mayor back and she needed her sleep, a bit of a truth and a lie mixed in one.   
  
Despite how dry her eyes were and how badly she wanted to just slip away, she still took the time to savor the kiss he had given her. She wasn't forgiven, not yet, but they would be okay. Everything would be okay.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> missed me? ( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º)
> 
> please forgive any typos or inaccuracies, im even confusing myself. please leave a comment and kudos if you liked it! the validation really makes me feel good about myself! thank you!!

Anxiety permeated everything she did the following days. The trip back to the Castle was uneventful and the mood among her people was calm and peaceful. At least most of the Minutemen were relieved to see her return and maybe the tension between the Brotherhood and Commonwealth would subside.   
  
She'd have to make some kind of announcement about it. Tell the world, or whoever was listening, that the Minutemen were friends with the Brotherhood despite their difference in values.   
  
She wondered how The Slog would react. Would they feel betrayed? And Goodneighbor? She knew she could trust Hancock about it, he knew how to put business and pleasure aside, but his people were different. It was entirely possible she wouldn't be very welcome anymore.  
  
 If she was someone else looking at the events unfolding she wouldn't trust the General either. But her hands were tied and there was too much as stake. All she could do was bite down and keep appearances. It wasn't like she was actually friends with them, anyway.  
  
When she told Preston that the Brotherhood claimed to be innocent she could see the stress slowly dissapear from his shoulders but Ronnie scowled and got ready to argue. Even the request to find Doctor Li didn't seem to bother Preston as much but Ronnie was bubbling over. Before she could fire off her colorful insults the General quickly interjected with the palm of her hand.  
  
"I still don't trust them. The Minutemen doesn't trust them. Okay?" she said, trying to calm Ronnie.   
  
"But we're gonna tell everyone we do?"  
  
"It's not that simple."  
  
"It will be for the rest of the Commonwealth." Ronnie got to her feet and rubbed her temple with her fingers. "How do you think people will react when the Minutemen ally with the Brotherhood of all damn people? A good chunk of our people are going to be excluded."  
  
"I know that but we're not allies..."  
  
"The hell we aren't! They're making us run their errands!"  
  
"We still have our values and we're not changing anything. It's just a formal... standoff! Or something!" the General replied. "What would you have me do? Piss them off? Start a real conflict we can't win?"  
  
"I'd have the General represent and stand by our principles and our people."   
  
"Ronnie..." Preston began, trying to defuse the rising tension.   
  
"I know what you've done for the Commonwealth but you're still a rookie! We don't need fake diplomacy, we need strong leaders!"  
  
"Ronnie...!"    
  
"Well then fuck it, you old hag! You think you could do it better than me?"  
  
"A goddamn brahmin could do it better than you!"  
  
"Ladies! Calm down!"  
  
"Then be my guest! Be the General and try to please everyone at once!"  
  
"You ain't supposed to please everyone! Just the Minutemen!"  
  
"Get the fuck out of my office!"  
  
"General! Please! Can we just talk-...?"  
  
"My pleasure!" Ronnie shouted, all but bursting through the door.  
  
"Ronnie!" Preston tried to call but the furious woman had become one with the wind. "Was that really necessary?" he asked the General. "Do we really need this kind of fighting among ourselves."  
  
The General fought for air, trying to calm the rage that was flooding through her body. She probably got a little more forceful than she would've had she not been in trouble with Hancock but it felt good to take it out somewhere, even if it ran off Ronnie like water on a goose.  
  
"What fighting?" she asked him, calming her breath.  
  
"Wh-, what figh-? Oh you're not serious, are you?"  
  
The General laughed and relaxed in the chair.  
  
"We're just venting. She knew what I was going to do and I knew she was against it, it's just how we are, y'know?"   
  
Preston sighed with relief but frowned. "You could've told me that. I don't think it's appropriate of her to speak that way to you, especially not infront of other people. It'd send the wrong message."  
  
"It's so easy to misinterpret things, Preston. Where you just saw conflict I saw a subordinate holding the person in power responsible, as they should. Ronnie fighting me is kind of essential to making sure I don't get too full of myself."  
  
"I don't think that would happen anyway." Preston said, calming down.  
  
"That's because you always see the good in things," she smiled, "and that's why you're essential to the Commonwealth."  
  
Preston blushed and hid under his hat. If Preston hadn't held on  to his humanity the Commonwealth would've been doomed. The world owed him so much.  
  
"So what do you think?" she asked.  
  
"About how people will take it?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"People are definitely going to question our motives but I think it might good too. No matter what people think we'll always protect the Commonwealth and it might deter raiders from attacking if they think the Brotherhood will back us up."  
  
"That's true." the General nodded. "But I'm not sure if we want to ride on that assumption for too long."  
  
"Hopefully we won't have to. Did you find out what they need the Doctor for?"  
  
"Well, actually..." she started, letting her breath deflate her. "I was going to talk to you without Ronnie anyway, I only want her knowing half of it. Okay?"  
  
"Okay." Preston cautiously replied.   
  
Preston was one of the most accepting people she knew but even he would have to be far too naive for his own good not to get suspicious. She had to admit, with a great deal of shame, that she wasn't entirely sure Shaun wasn't some kind of last resort on behalf of the Institute herself.   
  
"Have you noticed anything... off? About Shaun?"  
  
"Well." Preston started. "I don't exactly have a frame of reference but he seems exceptionally bright for someone his age but that could just be his genes. He did also grow up in a very 'smart' enviroment." he finished, doing the airquotes and all. "I assume that's not what you're thinking about though. What's up?"  
  
The General looked at him and thought about how to best approach it. Maybe he'd just think she was overthinking things, despite the semi-confirmation Deacon gave her, but it was essential he knew about Shaun. Ronnie could do without knowing it, the less that knew the better, but she needed Preston on her side.  
  
"He... doesn't really grow, does he?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean, he's been with us for a while, yeah? And he's... he hasn't really changed, has he? Like he's not any taller. And his hair hasn't grown a bit. Kids his age grow quickly, right?"  
  
"Well..." Preston frowned. "I guess kids today don't grow as much as they did in your days, if you pardon my expression. Maybe you're just sensitive since he's your son." he tried, doing his best to speak as nonaccusatory as possible.   
  
"I mean, maybe? But I spoke to Deacon about it, in Goodneighbor, and I talked to Hancock about it and there's a good chance the Institute did something to him. We already know some of the things they put synths through and Shaun's... I'm just saying, I feel like there's something wrong and if there is we have to fix it. Soon."  
  
Preston could see the genuine worry in her eyes and it wasn't like the General to share her troubles unless she had to. He was happy the General got her son back, even if not quite _her_ son, but truth be told Shauns literal existance was a testament to how cruel the Institute could be. Why wouldn't there be even more horrible secrets behind the scenes?  
  
"What does that mean for us, then? And the Brotherhood?"  
  
"The Brotherhood is looking for Doctor Li. I saw her in the Institute and maybe they want her knowledge and information about them but... She was the person in charge of Shaun. My Shaun."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"If he's not growing, if he's stuck being a child? We need her. I need her. Kids grow up so fast and I won't be around forever and if people find out..."   
  
A few tears burned at the back of her eyes and Preston placed a comforting hand ontop of hers.   
  
"I don't know what will happen if word gets out. I don't know what we're supposed to do. What I'm supposed to do. Sorry." The General gave his hand a squeeze but withdrew with a small smile. "I can't possibly expect the Minutemen to fight for me and my son, there are more important things."  
  
"No. Not at all. We defend the people and that includes you and Shaun. No matter how things turn out and what the truth is, we're not leaving anyone defenseless."  
  
Tears began clouding her vision and she quickly moved around the table between them to trap him in a tight embrace. The gesture shocked him and for a splitsecond he was stiffer than the walls of the Castle but he soon relaxed and gave into the hug.   
  
"Thank you." she spoke quietly into his ear.   
  
Whether people liked it or not, they all owed her their lives and Shaun was an innocent child, no matter what the Institute did to him or put in him. If he was a failsafe or some kind of sleeper agent waiting to destroy the world or rebuild the Institute then clearly something would have to be done but until he was proven to be dangerous he was just a child.  
  
"You're a blessing, you know that?"  
  
Preston let out an embarrassed laugh and patted her back. She let go and kissed him on the cheek, almost pushing his hat off with her forehead, and leaned back on the table.  
  
"So you're onboard with it? You'll help me find Li before the Brotherhood does and then... hide or, or something?"  
  
"Of course. But maybe we should come up with something more intricate?"  
  
"Yeah." she smiled. "Any ideas?"  
  
"We have to find her first, suppose that's the main issue."  
  
"Mhh." she agreed. "Pretty sure the Railroad will help us against the Brotherhood too. They'll probably want a piece of the action though, if we find her we'll have to give them access."  
  
"Shouldn't be a problem. We more or less want the same." Preston thought out loud. "Do they know about Shaun?"  
  
"I guess they do a little. Deacon certainly does, don't know what he's relayed back to them."  
  
"Alright so we'll be looking for Doctor Li, in secret for ourselves but officially for the Brotherhood, and the Railroad will be helping us in secret but officially staying out of trouble."  
  
"Right."  
  
"And once we find Doctor Li, hopefully first, we find someplace to hide her and we tell the Brotherhood what? That we're still looking?"  
  
"Might not be possible, we can't get the whole Minutemen in on this. If word gets out that we've found her they're going to want us to hand her over."  
  
"So we need a cover."  
  
"Yes." The General frowned and stared at the table for a moment before she discarded her thoughts. "We should have plenty of time to figure something out though. And once we find her, of course, the Railroad..."  
  
"They shouldn't be a problem. I don't think they'd be too greedy either."  
  
"I agree."  
  
"Alright, what do we do if the Brotherhood finds her first?"  
  
The question caught the General by surprise. She hadn't really considered that. The Brotherhood were much too obvious to do any proper detective work and the Commonwealth wasn't that cooperative with the well-armed strangers but they had been looking for much longer already. They knew more about her as well.  
  
"Well, that's the question."  
  
Preston leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and got eerily serious for a moment.  
  
"I suppose the better question is; how far are you willing to go?"  
  
"For Shaun? You already know that answer."  
  
"Things are different now. More things are at stake. You have much more to lose and many more will suffer if you fail."  
  
She could feel the heat drain from her body, leaving her sickeningly cold. The General loved her son but was she really willing to sacrifice other innocent people for a cause that could very well be lost? For one there may not be anything wrong with him and her fears could be only a mothers fear and secondly it was entirely possible Doctor Li wouldn't be able to help. The laboratory was gone and along was every data and tool she might need and while Sturges was a resourceful man there had to be limits to his skill as well.  
  
"I..." she began, stopping only to stand up. The knot in her stomach was back and stronger than before and it felt as if it was going to burst out of her. "Let's not think about that. Leave plan B blank for now."  
  
"Are you sure that's safe?"  
  
She scoffed and went back to her seat.   
  
"It's definitely not. But there is a lot to consider here."  
  
A sharp knock made the General jump in her seat and as if by cue Ronnie returned to the meeting.   
  
"Did you get your panties out of your ass?" Ronnie asked, returning to her seat next to Preston.  
  
"Did you get that stick out of yours?" the General teased, earning a scoff from the older woman.   
  
"Ladies, please." Preston sighed.  
  
"Well," the General said, "we'll have to let our recruits know that we're looking for Doctor Li. Suppose we need to get some kind of description of her out there."  
  
"That's not a very good idea." Ronnie replied, earning a few raised eyebrows from the others. "The Brotherhood kept their mouth shut for a reason and it ain't just to keep us out of it. If she's out there and they still ain't found her it means she don't want to be found. And if we tell our young ones to look for her, word's going to come around back to her and she'll try even harder to stay hidden. If she's still even in the Commonwealth."  
  
If she's still even in the Commonwealth? Shit. Maybe she was long gone already. The General didn't exactly know what else was out there or what other places had survived but MacCready grew up around Washington so something was out there. Fuck.  
  
"Then what do you suggest?"   
  
"I suggest that we only let the senior officers know, make sure they know it's a 'shut-up-mission'."  
  
"I agree with that." Preston said. "The less who know the better."  
  
"Alright." the General said. "You two know who to speak with, I trust you with that task. They have to also know that if they find her to bring her to a secure location before we do anything else."  
  
"You're planning on going behind the Brotherhoods back?" Ronnie asked.  
  
"I like them about as much as you do." she replied, crossing her arms. "And I think that if the Brotherhood needs her, we should know why."   
  
The General earned an appriciative nod from Ronnie. She didn't think Ronnie had any problems with synths and despite their difference in opinion she still did what she was told but the less who knew the better. It didn't feel right going behind her back but she would have to understand when the truth came out, as it most probably would.   
  
"They'll find out if we have her eventually." Ronnie said. "What are you planning to do then."  
  
Preston, who was comfortable letting the two women discuss the best options, suggested what made heavy stones lie in his gut whenever the thought crossed his mind.   
  
"I think we should continue building the artillery pieces but at least one in every settlement. I think we should upgrade our weapons and armors... and possibly prepare nearby settlements for emergency evacuations."  
  
Both the General and Ronnie looked at him in shock.   
  
"You sound as if you're expecting trouble." Ronnie said. Preston was a sweet man and he always tried to keep things peaceful. If he was thinking about fighting, it was serious.  
  
"I think that's how it'll come to, no matter what we do. We need to be ready."   
  
"Yeah." the General nodded. "In any case it's not bad to upgrade our gear. It's a solid suggestion."   
  
The three sat in a moment of contemplative silence. There had to be something, didn't there? They couldn't just exist in peace, there had to be some kind of struggle with lives on the line.   
  
"Right, then." the General finally said. "You guys talk to the people you trust, tell them we'r e looking for Li. I'll see if I can get Sturges and his team do something for our defenses and the artillery is in general production. What else?"  
  
"Where are we looking?"  
  
"We can't let our people patrol in odd places, they should keep an eye out in the ruins and in hospitable places between our settlements. There's not a whole lot else they can do. I can go to other suspicious places that are further away. Think I can persuade a few friends to join me." The General sighed. "This is going to take a while."  
  
"Slow and steady wins the race." Ronnie said, smirking to herself.  
  
"Sounds like I should keep an eye on my coat." she teased.  
  
Immediately the older woman got sharp and snapped back.  
  
"If I wanted to wear that glorified dusty tarp I would've a long time ago."     
  
"Yeah, yeah." The General dismissed her. She stood up and stretched her muscles with a groan. "I'll be going to Sanctuary Hills with Shaun for a week or so, I'll persuade Sturges to come too. His workshop at the truckstop is better than the one here, maybe he can get started on upgrading our gear."  
  
"You're going on vacation? In the middle of all this?"  
  
"It's not a vacation."   
  
"The Castle won't be a good place for a child to be for a while." Preston said solemnly. Not that the fortified walls and heavy artillery had ever really been, but it wasn't the future he wanted.   
  
He just wanted the Commonwealth to thrive and prosper, not go back and forth between war and mourning.   
  
But maybe once the Brotherhood left, after Doctor Li helped Shaun and everyone got what they wanted... Maybe things could finally settle. The General playfully punched his shoulder, waking him up from deep thought.    
  
"It's going to be okay. We don't know how things'll turn out. We'll be okay."  
  
 He could see hope in her eyes, and strength. She had a point. Preston stood up with a confident smile and pushed away any doubts. There was no time or place to give in to that now, they could only go forward.   
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
He dismissed himself with a nod and started walking. He still needed to process all the information and without thinking his legs automatically steered him towards safe and familiar grounds. It wasn't until the smell of oil and sweat smacked him in the face that he realized where he'd gone and he found himself immediately calming down.   
  
"Hey Sturges." he said.  
  
"Oh hey there, Preston. How are ya?"  
  
"Good. I'm good. Keeping busy."  
  
"No shortage of work, is there?" Sturges laughed.   
  
"Things can always get better." Preston replied, smiling.   
  
Sturges worked a dirty rag around a selection of bolts that seemed to have been taken out of a turret that laid in pieces on the table infront of them. He was always very particular that things had to be running smoothly and not just running, taking great care of his creations.   
  
Preston didn't even notice that the silence was odd, instead enjoying the comfort of his company, but Sturges glanced at the other man who just... stood there.  
  
"Anything I can do for ya?"  
  
"Huh? Oh! No. I'm just... wondering when are you heading back for Sanctuary?"  
  
"Eager to get rid of me?" Sturges joked.   
  
"Not at all!" Preston replied a little too quickly for his own liking. "It's been a while since I've been there myself. I hope they're all alright."  
  
"Haven't heard anything bad, I'm sure they're fine. Why don't you come with us? It'd do ya some good."  
  
"I'd love to come with you. I mean, I'd enjoy some time off but there's too much to do."  
  
Preston felt his face burn and he wondered when things had first begun to feel awkward when speaking to the mechanic. They had known eachother for a long time but recently he had found himself eager to impress him eventhough there was no reason for it. They were friends, good friends! They'd been through hell and back together.  
  
He asked himself why but he already knew and though he refused to admit it to himself he could do little to prevent himself from seeking Sturges out. He couldn't jepordize their friendship and he would absolutely not create a conflict of interest between the two and the Minutemen (eventhough he wasn't sure why there'd be a conflict since the Minutemen had control over a wide area and if things didnt work out they didn't have to see eachother but then again that was another good reason to stay put. How could he ever not see Sturges again?).  
  
"That's a shame. It's been a while since you and I got together, would be nice catching up."  
  
"Absolutely." Preston said.    
  
The joy that shot through his core at the suggestion was followed closely with searing guilt. It wasn't appropriate for him to have these kinds of feelings for a close friend and coworker but that realization didn't make his feelings go away. Maybe it was good that Sturges were going away for a while, he'd have time to allow his feelings to cool down.   
  
"Well, have a safe trip. Send my best to Mama Murphy and the Longs."  
  
"Will do." Sturges said with a sparkling smile. "I hope you'll come up some day, don't let it take too long for a vacation."  
  
"I won't." Preston said, backing out of the workshop. As soon as the fresh air cleared out the smell of the workshop he felt his mind clear up as well. Some distance would be exactly what he needed. Things were going to work out! As long as they all held on and out, things were going to be just fine.   
  
As if to confirm Prestons positive outlook he saw the General and her son walking hand in hand across the courtyard with wide smiles towards the workshop. He nodded to the General and tipped his hat for Shaun, letting them pass him as he went on his own merry way back to his duties.  
  
Shaun was a cherry bomb of excitement as he all but dragged the General towards wherever Sturges was so that they could plan their trip to Sanctuary. It'd been a long time coming to finally spend time as a family and without worrying too much about everyone and everything. Calming the kid was impossible and it was decided they'd leave as soon as the next day.  
  
On the plus side it'd be hard for any raider or gunner to intercept them unless they just happened upon them but on the downside it might appear to the Commonwealth as a hasty retreat. The General would've prefered to stall at the Castle but no matter excuse she made she'd have to face Hancock eventually.   
  
She was terrified he wouldn't show up, that maybe he'd rather just drop the whole thing and it was hard to focus on just spending time with her son. The guilt made her nauseous, _he deserved so much more_!, but in her defence he wasn't her only responsability and her whole life since the bombs burned the world had been an upside down shitshow.   
  
He'd do better without her. They all would.  
  
But it was what it was and there was nothing else to do but to trudge on. Maybe that was what the future was; a whole lot of bullshit and hoping for the best. She looked forward to kicking back at Sanctuary though, regardless how things turned out with the Brotherhood, Li, Shaun and Hancock. It'd be nice to kinda dissapear for a bit. 

**Author's Note:**

> tbh i feel like this is kind of way too dramatic and on the verge of being cringey but im also ace irl and i fucking love that ghoul, and i even kinda felt bad for a while thinking that if i were me in that game there'd be no way that'd work out so this is 100% me catering to myself. 
> 
> if you see any typos or if something doesn't make sense please let me know. constructive criticism is appriciated.
> 
> comments and kudos are adored
> 
> my tumblr; tyvian-whaler.tumblr.com


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